This trip was just what he needed.
He had spent all morning and most of the afternoon around the town. It was nice to get out without Elise to slow him down or pull him back on track. Ermolt had first made arrangements with a weaponsmith, and then after a delicious meal of freshly roasted fish, he’d made contact with an armorsmith who was more than happy to talk to Ermolt at great lengths about heat-resistant armors.
Time hadn’t been a great concern to Ermolt. He knew the taverns wouldn’t fill up with interesting folk until well into the late afternoon. And then, when they did, he would show Elise and Athala. Make them regret teasing him for his methods.
When fifteenth bell rang, Ermolt made his way to a few taverns, buying drinks and scoping out the clientele. He’d hit the mark at The Silent Spoon, a rustic establishment that was relatively popular among off-duty Conscripts and Temple Guards. It was just far enough away from the Temple to avoid commanders, but still along the way home for many. Ermolt had quickly established himself as a newcomer to town looking to make friends, and whomever his boisterous laugh and wide smile hadn’t won over, his freely spent coin had.
“No, no, no,” Ermolt said. “I won’t hear it. In fact, I insist! This round is on me!”
The cheer that went up from the crowd drowned out the protest of the man who had tried to buy Ermolt a drink. The barbarian slapped a huge hand on the table, leaving behind enough coin to buy drinks for the group that had gathered around him. A barmaid gathered the coin quickly and scurried off to the bar to turn it into another mountain of tankards for those who had joined Ermolt’s growing group of new friends.
“Don’t be so down, Jacob.” Ermolt clapped his hand onto the shoulder of the man next to him. “I’ll let you buy the next round if you like!”
“No, it’s fine,” the man said with a grin. “I was just trying to be polite.”
“Don’t worry about it, friend.” Ermolt gave a big grin in return. “Now what were we talking about again?” he asked, as the group around him went back to their individual conversations while they waited for the next round to appear.
“The city. Jalova.”
“Ah, that’s right.” Ermolt nodded as if he’d forgotten. “You were just saying something about power struggles or whatnot.”
“Ah, that’s boring talk, though.” The man waved a hand dismissively. “You don’t want to hear about that. Not from me, especially.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Jacob!” Ermolt rubbed the man’s shoulder. “My mother always said it’s very important to hear every side of the story.”
“I just mean I’m a Conscript of Teis.” Jacob shrugged. “You’re just going to dismiss everything I say as favoritism.”
“And if I talk to anyone else, how will I know they don’t have their own favorites?” Ermolt asked, leaning in. “If I hear it from you, I know you’re on the Temple’s side. Then when I talk to someone else, I can get their side. And at least you’re honest with me! Sometimes people don’t disclose their favoritism—I don’t know if their brother is a Cleric or if their uncle was an Overseer!”
“Damned Overseers,” Jacob hissed under his breath. “We could take them all out if it weren’t for the damned bureaucrats in Lublis.”
“Yeah? What bureaucrats?” Ermolt said, lowering his voice to keep the Conscript at ease. “Who in Lublis could dare hold sway over the Temple?”
“Just, you know, nobility. Threatening to denounce the Temple to the public if we act against the Overseers. They just don’t—they just don’t understand.” Jacob curled in on himself, deflating. “The Overseers in Lublis are just a bunch of greedy bastards. Anything they do, they do for money. They can’t comprehend what would happen if their leader had an agenda like the one here does.”
“An organization like that could never get roots in up north,” Ermolt said with an overzealous nod. “You need to have a real purpose to get any acceptance in Klav.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I never had a problem with their original purpose,” the man said into his cup. “There’s nothing wrong with having a boogeyman who can make sure the upper crust is doing right by the people, and making sure you put all the bad eggs in one basket so you can keep track of them. But the Jalovan Overseers don’t care about that.” Jacob shook his head and slammed his mug down onto the table. A bit of beer splashed up and onto his hand, but he seemed to not notice. “All their fear mongering and aggression has turned toward the Temple. They don’t do jobs for the nobles to line their own pockets like in Lublis, they do jobs to finance their own jobs against us.”
“And why would they do that?” Ermolt pressed. “Seems like a waste of resources unless they have a good reason.”
“Well—” Jacob began, but was interrupted by the barmaid returning, carefully balancing a pyramid of tankards on a tray. A cheer went around the table larger than the one they’d given Ermolt when he announced the drinks were on him. Conversation died down for a moment as the tankards went around the cluster of tables.
“You were saying?” Ermolt prompted Jacob once they had both had a deep gulp of beer. “Something about the Overseers’ obsession with the Temple?”
“Ugh,” Jacob grunted, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “This whole mess started with the old High Priest.” He straightened up and affected a posh noble’s voice. “Merylle Callac, High Priest of Teis, so high and mighty she didn’t have time for any Conscript foolishness.”
“And what happened to her?” Ermolt asked, leaning closer. “Did she pick a fight with the Overseers?”
“No, no. Not anything like that.” Jacob paused for another pull from his beer. When he put the mug back down, he put his elbows on the table and rested his chin against his folded hands. “She went and joined them.” The disgust in his voice was thick. “It didn’t take long for her to work her way up their ranks, with all her knowledge of the city. She’s running the Jalova Overseers now.”
“So she left the priesthood, then?” Ermolt caught himself before he laughed. It was obvious the idea upset the man. “Why would anyone—let alone the High Priest—do something like that?”
“The Temple says it was theft. They say she tried to steal some relic from the Temple’s vaults or something. At first no one believe it, but that changed once she showed up working for the Overseers.” Jacob shrugged and looked down at the table top. “Some folks I know who were close to her actually reached out to her in secret once she started working with the Overseers, and they say her story is that it was just a difference of opinions, and she went to the Overseers when the Priests started their accusations.”
“Both those stories sound like a crock, though,” Ermolt said. He took a slow sip of his beer so that he could judge Jacob’s reaction. The man seemed unconcerned, so Ermolt continued. “If it was theft, she wouldn’t have gone free. If it was a difference of opinion, she’d probably have skipped town entirely.”
“Yeah, that’s right.” Jacob leaned back and took another gulp of beer. “None of us Conscripts really believe either story.”
“So then what story do you believe?” Ermolt leaned in closer. He darted his eyes back and forth as if he were looking around for people listening in, but Ermolt was confident no one was paying attention to them. That was the blessing of buying rounds for a group. Once the beer was there, they tended to ignore whomever bought the beer. “I’m sure there are some rumors floating around.”
“Rumors are always just the most fantastical story anyone can think of,” Jacob mumbled into his beer. “But, there is one. They say it was betrayal. The current High Priest, Jutta, was Merylle’s closest friend when she was coming up in the Temple. They say after Merylle became High Priest, Jutta grew jealous. As soon as an opportunity arose, she did something to push her out and take her place. Pretty funny to think that all of the enmity between the Temple and the Overseers could down to some petty rivalry, eh?”
“It might not seem so petty if it happened to you,” came an aggravated voice from b
ehind Ermolt. The rest of the tavern fell in an immediate hush.
”M-Merylle!” Jacob exclaimed, beads of sweat immediately popping out on his forehead. Ermolt stiffened at the man’s obvious fear. “I-is it safe for you to be out so close to the Temple?”
“Your concern is unnecessary,” the woman said in a smooth voice. She moved closer to them, her graceful footsteps a gentle whisper that Ermolt had to strain to hear. The fifteen or so pairs of booted feet that moved with her were much easier to pinpoint. “And besides, I just had to meet my new inquisitive friend. I’ve heard so many stories.” Her voice was like a snowfall in Klav, but there was an edge to it that made Ermolt think of hidden traps filled with wasps.
Aesthetically, by voice alone, this woman intrigued him. He knew that, if Elise were here, she would be immediately drawn to this woman.
As the many feet continued to move closer, Jacob grew more and more pale. “Oh, you’re here for him? I should, uh, just, go? Then?”
Ermolt slowly turned to look over his shoulder. A group of hooded figures had slipped into the room, and standing at the head of them was a woman. She was tall, with dark olive skin, and a black cloak over her shoulders that reached below her knees. Her long black hair had a bit of a curl to it that would have reminded Ermolt of his sister, were it not for the dark glare across her face that drew attention straight to her sneering lips.
“Conscript Jacob, isn’t it?” she said, derision ringing clear in her voice. “Did no one ever teach you how rude it is to gossip? Perhaps I should take the initiative your instructors appear to lack.”
“N-no,” Jacob stammered. “No, you know, that’s okay. You don’t—I’ll just—” He stood clumsily, knocking his chair over. He should have stayed seated, but it was too late now. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—” The Conscript bolted. He tried to shoulder his way around the cloaked figures to make it to the door behind them, but he only managed to be behind a wall of dark cloaks, out of sight, before Ermolt heard the sound of a merciless blow and a body hitting the floor.
“Barkeep!” Ermolt called loudly. At the sound of his voice, the rest of his drinking buddies made a very obvious show of scooting away from him. “Another round for my new friends!” The barkeeper only responded by ducking slowly out of sight behind the bar. Great. Ermolt turned his attention back to the woman and patted the now-empty chair next to him. “No need for a scene, here. Come. Have a drink with me.”
“So many new people in my town asking questions they shouldn’t,” the woman said slowly, looking Ermolt over. “I don’t like it. So why don’t you do yourself a favor and come with me. You can answer some of my questions for a change.”
“Ah, there’s no need to go anywhere,” Ermolt said, looking over at the bar, trying to catch the eye of someone—anyone—who might be convinced to bring him a beer to offer the newcomers. “Have a seat. We can talk here over a brew like friends.” He tried giving her his most disarming smile.
“I’m sorry—did you think I was asking?” Merylle laughed, a full throated laugh that was used to turning men to putty. Ermolt’s first thought was right—Elise would have fawned all over this woman. When Ermolt didn’t say anything in return, Merylle narrowed her eyes. “If you decline my generous offer, my hand will be forced. You will come anyway, and I’ll just have to go fetch the Conscript and the Wizard as well.”
“We don’t have to be enemies if we choose not to be,” Ermolt said. He reached back and laid his hand on the edge of the table beside him.
“Fine,” the woman said with a shake of her head. Her dark curls bounced with the movement. “I’ve tried to get you to come peacefully.” She swept a hand to one side, revealing a sword sheathed on her hip. “If we must, we’ll do this the hard way.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Unfortunately, I have a policy against the hard way,” Ermolt said before standing. As he stood he brought the other table with him. He secured the massive slab of wood and metal with his second hand before he let out a bellow of challenge. He twisted at the waist, hurling the entire table at the group of cloaked figures.
Some were fast enough to get out of his way. Merylle was one of them. She ducked the heavy bit of furniture and drew her sword as she stood back up. About half of the Overseers behind her crashed to the floor, a heavy table pinning them to the ground.
“You should have just come with me,” Merylle said with an icy smile.
“If you best me, I’ll come willingly,” Ermolt replied. He spread his arms wide, revealing his lack of armor and weapons. “I’m even unarmed. Come, try your luck.”
“Remember this when you rot in my cells.” The woman dove forward. Ermolt had expected her to be fast—she’d ducked his flipped table with enough ease—but he wasn’t ready for this speed.
For the first time in a long while, Ermolt thought he might be outmatched.
Chapter Fourteen
Athala found Elise already back in her room at the inn at the tavern. She expected a bit of a ribbing for being gone all day, but the Conscript was digging through their supplies and barely noticed her entrance. Athala thought it odd that Ermolt was not back yet, but it would have been a lie to say she was surprised.
The barbarian had a habit of losing track of time, especially when there were tales to tell. He was probably halfway through some drunken retelling of Odalric’s conquest of the southern kingdoms, animatedly swinging his arms around as he half-told, half-reenacted the legendary duel of revenge between him and his father’s murderer.
She’d heard that particular story about a thousand times. Recently she’d watched him almost set himself on fire while telling said tale over a roaring campfire. He always got so into the tale no matter how many people were listening.
Athala sat on the edge of Elise’s bed. “So how did you fare?” Elise asked, not looking up from the medical supplies as she shuffled through them. “Better than I did, I hope.” Her voice held a bitterness that made Athala smirk.
“Well, it was a lot of hard work and a lot of research, but I can be reasonably sure Sirur is in the dome of the Temple.” Athala dug out her notes and set them on the bed next to Elise’s head. The Conscript abandoned her search through her pack to look over the stack. After a moment she brought them over to the single table in the corner of the room. She fetched the oil lamp from her nightstand and set it up to illuminate the notes. Athala joined her at the table. “It might take some time yet to figure out how to get in, but I know where the blueprints are, and knowing where I’m looking goes a long way towards speeding that process up.”
“How long do you think?”
“A day at most. Maybe two. I have some preliminary notes on that.” Athala took the notes from Elise and flipped to a page filled with crude sketches she had made off the blueprints. “But the plans around the dome are pretty opaque. It’s hard to tell how to get in at all, let alone getting in quietly. It would be a lot easier if we had a person with inside knowledge, but locating someone like that could take ages.”
“It looks like they treat the place like a vault,” Elise said with a frown. “Alright. From how we stored relics at the Temple of Ydia, it makes sense that an entrance to the dome would be around this area.” Elise pointed to a smaller side room beneath the dome. “A hidden staircase or ladder here would match pretty well to how things were done in Khule.”
“So then how do we get there?” Athala trailed a line from that room to the front door. “We could possibly sneak around in the back passages here, but everything is separated from the entrances by the main hall.” Athala drew her finger around the main hall in a massive circle. “It’s huge and exposed and if there’s even one guard anywhere in the room, they’ll see or hear us easily.”
“So we don’t go in through the entrances.” Elise leaned back with a smile. Athala furrowed her brow.
“What am I missing?”
Elise leaned forward again and pointed to a spot on the map. Athala had focused most of her attention on areas relevant to the dome w
hen she’d drawn the crude map, but Elise was still incredibly confident about where she put her finger. She was pointing to a spot around the room she’d pointed out earlier. It looked like a sewer entrance. “This is our way in.”
“What do you mean?” Athala tilted her head, examining the map more closely.
“I went around the Temple on the way to the Overseers,” Elise explained. She leaned away from the map, crossing her arms behind her head. “And I did a circle around it on my way back. They have Conscripts guarding every inch of the grounds, and set to watch in the surrounding neighborhoods. But there is an accessible sewer grate in an alleyway north of the Temple. It’s not visible from any guard post I saw, and there’s no way they’d place guards around it.”
“And you don’t find that suspicious?”
“Well, obviously it’s suspicious. An easy entrance, not watched—it’s going to be trapped. But since we know that it might be easier.”
Elise looked out the room’s window and Athala followed. The Temple was clearly visible. It was a beacon in the darkening sky. The dome that Athala had spent so much time researching pulsed with light in much the same way Ydia’s Beacon Lights pulsed. Elise had once told Athala that they were lit by prayer—did all of the Gods have a similar prayer-based lighting system?
Elise rolled her neck. “My findings otherwise weren’t too good, but there’s a chance we can still use the information. The autumn festival begins soon. While they’re setting up, they’ll be looking for the Overseers to attack. So they’re going to step up their security wherever the festival grounds are going to be. The outdoor courtyard is on the west side of the building, so I’m going to guess the festival will be there. If so, they’ll focus their attention on the west side and not on random alleyways on the north end.”
“Seems sound,” Athala said, but she wrinkled her nose. “But I’m not happy about going through the sewers.”
“We went through sewers in Khule!” Elise said with a frown. “I mean, there were giant rats and skeletons, but it wasn’t so bad.”
Bargain (Heroes By Necessity Book 2) Page 9