The only person who didn’t seem battle ready was Chantel, but even then, a dark expression lingered on the priestess’s face. If anyone dared to cross that woman, life afterwards would be a political nightmare. Chantel would see to that.
Chizeld would have vastly preferred to do this visit after being reinforced with armsmen from the Center, but until an investigation could be completed, no one from the Center could be really called trustworthy. As Chizeld had no idea how long an investigation would take, Jewel hadn’t been willing to wait and voted to just go this morning and get the confrontation over with.
Funny, how no one seemed to think that Thornock might win this and Jewel be dragged back to Belthain. Only Chizeld seemed to be worried about that outcome.
If only Jewel weren’t the Guardian of the Barrier… Since being re-called as High Priestess of Ramath, Thornock had no reason to want back, not really. Not with Tamarra Matthison as High Priestess of Thornock. But with Jewel still in the position as Guardian, the ministers weren’t willing to let go.
All of these peregrinations occupied a corner of Chizeld’s mind but didn’t distract completely. Like Sarvell, Chizeld constantly scanned the surrounding streets and pedestrians as the party fought through the early morning traffic and crossed over to the Temple of Elahandra.
Being such a large city, with such a high influx of different clansmen, the temple here had a more auspicious air to it than usual. Built from white granite quarried from the nearby Darwall Mountains, it shone in the morning sun like a newly polished diamond. This building stood an imposing five stories, much taller than any other edifice around it, and sprawled in every direction, taking up the full corner of a city block. Of course, by doing so, the front gates had practically no space to divide it from the main doors. One side held a series of iron rings embedded in the low wall, just for visitors to tie horses to, but it left limited space. If trouble did start, it would not be a good place to fight.
Of course, all of this also meant that as soon as the party rode through the main gate, anyone standing near the main door could see arrival. Chizeld kept one eye on the main door as everyone cautiously dismounted. Sure enough, a complement of Thornock guardsmen rushed down the stairs and the aides for the Minister of Defense and the Minister of Foreign Affairs quickly descended.
Shards.
Jewel’s extended hand found Chizeld’s shoulder and grasped it tightly. “They’re here, aren’t they?”
“Yes,” Chizeld answered simply.
“Alright.” Jewel drew in a breath and squared both shoulders, as if preparing for battle. Chizeld blinked, watching in amazement to see the change in demeanor. In a split second, the priestess had gone from a very worried young woman to someone that radiated power and authority. Chizeld darted a look at Rialt’s face, but the other man didn’t seem surprised by this change. Had Jewel done this before, then?
Jewel let go of both men and took two steps forward, standing straight and tall. In open challenge, the High Priestess of Ramath demanded, “Who is before me?”
Something about this authoritative demeanor made both aides pause for a moment. Exchanging anxious looks, the men slowed slightly and came to a complete stop some feet away. “Priestess Jomadd,” one of them began formally, “I am Cavin Herlevi, First Aide to the Minister of Defense.”
Chizeld had once met the Minister of Defense. Herlevi bore a striking resemblance to the man with that bushy red hair, bulbous nose, and slightly jolly figure. If not an illegitimate son, then perhaps a nephew? The armsman didn’t believe for one second that Herlevi had earned the position.
Not to be outdone, Herlevi’s compatriot chimed in. “I am Revel Briones, First Aide to the Minister of Foreign Affairs. Priestess Jomadd, we are here to bring you into custody and take you safely back to—”
“A dungeon?” Jewel interrupted with a sardonic twist of the lips. “I think not. Gentlemen, you are operating outside of your jurisdiction and without proper authority. Whatever orders you might have received from the ministers of Thornock, you have no power over the Priestesses of Elahandra. The very idea is insulting, actually. You will cease and desist immediately.”
Chizeld stared in frank amazement. Where did this confidence come from? Didn’t Jewel realize that the armsmen were outnumbered three-to-one? If it came to a fight, all three men would certainly do so, but winning was another matter entirely.
Briones wasn’t swayed one bit by this argument. “Priestess Jomadd, I don’t think you realize—”
“It’s because I realized that I was thrown into a dungeon cell by your Minister,” Jewel interrupted again, impatiently. “Let me make a few points clear. I am no longer the High Priestess of Thornock but have been re-called as the High Priestess of Ramath.”
From the startled blink from both men, that news hadn’t made it this far south yet.
“The new High Priestess of Thornock is Tamarra Matthison,” Jewel added with a particularly evil smile.
Chizeld had to bite back a smile as well when the aides turned a little pale at this information.
“I have been in contact with her,” no one dared to ask how, “and she has assured me that the office of High Priestess has been separated from the Thornock government as it always should have been. We are not under your jurisdiction,” Jewel rephrased, stronger than before. “You have no right to dictate to us or to control our movements.”
“But Priestess,” Herlevi riposted in a soothing tone, as if the man still believed to have the upper hand, “as the Guardian of the Barrier, your office falls directly under the Minister of Defense and as such—”
“As Guardian of the Barrier, I am above the rank of a clan’s Head Priestess. The only person that I report to directly is Elahandra herself.”
Herlevi was like a dog with a bone, refusing to let go. “But the barrier exists within Thornock and as such—”
Chantel, apparently having enough of this political double-talk, stepped forward with an angry scowl. “The barrier does not solely exist within Thornock. Just because you have the central crystal doesn’t mean that you have complete authority over it!”
Briones gave the other aide a look that spoke volumes: negotiations have failed. Fall back to Plan B. Chizeld didn’t need to be a mind reader to know what Plan B entailed. Grimly, the armsman put a hand on the hilt of the sword and prepared for a battle right here on the steps.
“We have our orders, Priestess Jomadd,” Herlevi stated with finality. “Please dispatch your armsmen to the Center and we will take you to Thornock.”
“I think…not.” Jewel’s expression of calm control dissolved under a furious scowl. “Let’s make this clear, gentlemen. You are on the steps of the Temple of Elahandra. You are within my domain. Whatever your orders, you do not have authority here.”
Tired of arguing, Herlevi and Briones waved the guards forward.
Jewel must have heard the multiple clinks of metal guards being slung into position and the hiss of swords being drawn from sheathes. Head twisted first one direction and then another, taking in the sounds, and the scowl deepened.
“Very well. If words will not convince you, perhaps this will.” Jewel’s face lifted heavenward for a brief moment, as if in supplication. Almost instantly, light seemed to flood out of every pore, making Jewel glow like another sun.
With an oath, the guards leaped back, shields automatically coming up for protection. Even the aides took a hasty step back with expressions of fear. Chizeld didn’t blame anyone, as it unnerved even a third-generation armsman to see so much power radiating from a single woman.
Jewel opened both eyes and looked directly ahead. For once, both eyes were filled with light and focused, as if the priestess could truly see everyone there. “I am the Priestess of Elahandra,” Jewel said with quiet steel. The power around that small frame flared and burned as if it was an open flame, lending a weight to each word as Jewel spoke it. “I am her hand, when she needs it. I am her shield when the people of Evard require it, bu
t do not forget this: I am also her sword. If you dare to attack me, or attack any Priestess of Elahandra’s, you will be declaring war on the Goddess of Light. The first man daring enough to take on her may step forward at any time.”
No one dared. In fact, after a nervous gulp, several men actually retreated a few paces while hastily putting their swords away, as if even a six foot clearance wasn’t enough distance.
Chizeld finally saw what Rialt had said before, in Hawleywood. The Ramathan had said that Jewel’s courage was such that she would face a danger any grown man would flinch before. Seeing Jewel stand there, with no trace of fear, against this armed complement of men was awe inspiring. But seeing those grown men retreat rather than engage was even more amazing.
When Chizeld had first heard that the woman sent on this impossible mission was blind and barely eighteen, Elahandra’s judgment had been brought into question. Surely some other priestess would have been more suitable to the task, after all. But it was clear now that it was Chizeld’s judgment that was lacking.
Herlevi, either brave or foolhardy, cleared the throat and tried again. “Priestess, surely you must understand our position.”
“Understand mine,” she responded coldly. “For generations, the Priestesses of Elahandra have suffered under the men you serve. This will no longer be tolerated. If you are truly so loyal to them, then by all means, try and take me into custody. But beware, for the moment you step forward with that intention, your life will be in my hands.”
No one dared to make that gamble. A lot of nervous, questioning glances were exchanged, but not one man moved.
Jewel gave a satisfied nod of the head. “Very well. Go home, all of you. Report exactly what has happened here. If I hear that your policies regarding Elahandra’s chosen has not changed by the time I return home to Ramath, I will not be pleased.”
Tamarra Matthison was no doubt cleaning house and re-arranging policies even now. Jewel’s added influence would likely be unnecessary. But the immediate weight of Jewel’s words were felt and the men quickly stepped down and huddled to one side, giving the party room to pass.
The light from around Jewel slowly faded away. With it, the woman’s strength seemed to slack as well. Rialt, ever observant, slipped a supportive hand around Jewel’s back and led the way up the stairs. Chizeld kept an eye on the Thornockians as the party passed by, but no one could even meet Jewel’s eyes. Well enough.
When everyone had passed the main door, Chizeld leaned down to whisper, “Alright?”
Jewel nodded faintly. “It’s just overpowering, sometimes. Elahandra’s power is just so…words can’t describe. I always feel a little tender for a few minutes, afterwards.” With a deep breath, Jewel straightened up. “Chantel?”
“Here.” The other priestess came around and touched Jewel’s arm. “What you said down there made me think. Why were the Thornockians even allowed to wait here inside the temple anyway? It was clear what their motives were.”
Jewel nodded grimly. “It’s disturbing.”
“I think I need to deal with this.” Chantel’s eyes had a flinty look that did not bode well for anyone that worked here. “Jewel, you sit down on that bench and rest. I’ll deal with this place.”
“Chanty, take Chizeld with you,” Jewel suggested in a tone that bordered on command. “He’s familiar with the temple here, after all, and he’ll provide any support you need. I doubt you’ll be able to handle these people without a fuss.”
“True enough.” Chantel gave a blinding smile. “Then, let’s go, Chizeld.”
Gladly.
~*~*~*~
It took the better portion of an hour, but Chantel did indeed rout out everyone with questionable loyalties from the temple. Jewel happily sat on the bench and let her sister high priestess take care of it. The Verisan Temple of Elahandra was, after all, not Jewel’s problem. Chantel had the authority to handle it, and handle it she did.
With everything sorted, Chantel came back to where everyone else waited. “Alright.” A loud clap of the hands followed the word before Chantel asked brightly, “What am I looking for?”
“Sense is a better word for it,” Jewel corrected, instinctively turning in the right direction. “To someone who’s never been close to an operational crystal before, I think it’s harder, but you should still be able to feel it. First, let’s focus on something a little closer. Turn your attention to Rialt or Chizeld.”
“Alright…” she responded slowly, boots crunching slightly in a half-step. “Oh. They glow a little.”
Jewel smiled encouragingly. “That’s right. The mantel of their position is obvious when you look for it. All armsmen of a high priestess will have such a mantel of power about them.”
“Hmmm…then, Sarvell, why don’t you glow?”
“I’m temporary,” he explained, a timber of amusement in the words. “I’m only helping until the crystals are found.”
Jewel didn’t want Chantel to be sidetracked by this other issue so took steps to redirect her. “Now that you can feel them, extend your senses out even further. A crystal doesn’t feel the same as living beings, but the source of the power is the same, so there is a similarity.”
A long moment of silence ensued as Chantel focused.
“Oh! Oh shards, it’s obvious!” She sounded vexed, tone sour. “If I had just looked, I would have seen it easily.”
Jewel managed, somehow, to bite her tongue. There were simply too many openings to take advantage of. “Good, now you have an idea of where to go. Once we’re closer—much closer—you’ll also be able to sense where the crystal should be.”
“I’ll take your word on that.” Chantel hesitated a moment before venturing, “I can’t tell how far it is.”
“You learn to judge distance by experience.” As Jewel had learned painfully well. “I’d say that we have a good five, six hours of hard riding before we reach it.”
“The camping supplies now make sense.”
“I thought they might.” Jewel waved an arm in the air in a small circular motion. “But before we do that, we have to get Broeske’s permission to work in his land.”
Chantel let out a long groan. “That god is impossible to reach.”
“I know,” Jewel couldn’t help but growl. “I’ve already tried. Several times.”
In a particularly devious tone, Chantel suggested, “If we can’t reach him this time, I vote we sic Elahandra on him.”
Normally, Jewel would have vetoed this. But under the circumstances… “If we really can’t, let’s do it.”
“Jewel!” Chizeld protested in something akin to panic.
Jewel crossed her arms over her chest, chin lifted in stubbornness. “If Rialt can bargain with gods and win, then so can I.”
Chizeld spluttered over that, but Rialt and Sarvell laughed outright.
“See?” Chizeld said accusingly to his brother-in-arms. “Stop setting bad example! Jewel is being corrupted by Ramathan stubbornness.”
“It no be a bad thing,” Rialt managed, voice still shaking with laughter.
Judging from that growl of frustration, Chizeld clearly didn’t agree.
“Alright, let’s move out.” Jewel stood from the bench and headed outside. “We need to go to a temple and pester a god.”
Rialt gave a deep chuckle. “A fine field officer you would make.”
She gave him a quick pat on the arm. “I learned from the best.”
“Are you calling me bossy, now?”
“Did I say that?” she mocked innocently.
Each saddle creaked and the harnesses jangled slightly as they all swung aboard the horses. Jewel had learned how to mount by herself after so many weeks of travel, but on this particular trip, they didn’t bother to lead her horse. Rialt simply swung aboard behind her.
“This way,” Chantel directed. “Fortunately, the temple is on the way out of town. You can actually see it from here. That round roof ahead.”
“Hoo,” Rialt’s voice barely carr
ied over the city traffic. “That be quite the building.”
“Is it large?” Jewel asked him, voice raised over the ruckus of the traffic.
“Judging from the roof, it be.” Rialt leaned in close to her to ask confidentially, “Will you really call upon herself if Broeske does no answer you?”
She got that stubborn feeling again. “I certainly will.”
Rialt apparently liked this answer as he chuckled. “I pity the man that tangles with you.”
“You make me sound formidable,” she responded, almost in protest. After all, she could hardly be described as a fighter.
“Eh, lass, that you be.”
They entered city traffic at that point and the noise around them drowned out any possibility of having a whispered conversation. They travelled for some distance, or at least it felt that way, as their pace stayed at a near crawl to avoid running into people. Even then, Jewel could feel people brush up against her legs they were that tightly packed. This must be a very popular street.
“There it be,” Rialt suddenly announced.
“What’s it like?” she asked, raising her voice to make sure he could hear her.
“Building be round as the roof. There be no courtyard to speak of, it just opens directly to the street. I count three, four, five…hm, looks like six prayer rooms altogether. Three of the doors be wide open.”
So, she had three rooms available to her. It didn’t seem that busy. Good. She might be there another hour, after all.
It took another few minutes to fight their way through traffic, but they finally arrived and dismounted. Rialt led her up a short flight of stairs and into an empty room. Jewel paused in the doorway and turned. “Chantel?”
Midnight Quest Page 24