Black Cross

by J. P. Ashman

  Horler Comlay turned and left the room, whilst the Grand Inquisitor sat back in his chair, pressing his fingers together to form a steeple as he slipped into thought.

  They’re covering their tracks; removing all who know about the scroll. All evidence. Well, apart from that captain and his crew. They’ll not remove him, not with his reputation. Alas, there’ll be no way of making him talk about his contract either, and so we must forget about Captain Mannino and Sessio, as much as it pains me to do so.

  Chapter 4: Symptoms

  Sav woke with a start as someone banged on his door.

  Sod off, for crying out loud. Sod off!

  The banging continued.

  ‘Alright… alright… I’ll be a moment,’ the scout shouted as loud as he dared, the banging continuing in his head long after it had stopped at the door.

  As he threw on a simple linen shirt and a pair of braes, he remembered starting the night before downstairs in the bar. How he’d ended the night was beyond him, but the way he felt this morning gave him a clue as to his night time activities.

  Walking across his small room, he turned the key in the lock and opened the door a crack. To his dismay, Fal pushed the door open forcefully, laughing as he strode into the room.

  ‘Good evening Sav,’ Fal said. ‘I gather you spent the day in bed then?’

  Fal! Well I’ll be flayed. He could be a little quieter though.

  Sav’s bloodshot eyes widened suddenly. ‘Evening?’ He looked completely confused as Fal, still laughing, nodded.

  Looking over to the window blind, Sav realised no light shone through the gaps.

  He collapsed back onto his bed and released a huge sigh. ‘I thought it morning. I don’t recall last night,’ he said, his eyes tightly closed.

  Fal leaned against the now closed door, grinning and shaking his head. ‘When’ll you learn that after two seasons in the wilds, you can’t just return and drink the place out of ale and mead as if it’s a nightly occurrence? It’s been three days since I saw you last, and you’re in no better state.’

  Three days?

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t realise you’d adopted me and become my father, Falchion, sir!’ Sav draped his thick, bow-strengthened right arm over his face, as if it would help relieve his hangover.

  ‘You’d be in a lot more strife from me if I were your father, young man.’ Fal held a stern look as best he could without breaking into a smile.

  Looking up, Sav waved his hand dismissively at his scowling friend. ‘Bah… you’re not even funny. Why are you here anyway?’

  ‘Oh, you don’t recall inviting me round any time for a few drinks then?’ Fal stuck out his bottom lip.

  Did I? Sounds like me. Must have then, but the thought of…

  ‘No… don’t mention drink, I can’t stomach the thought. And no, I don’t remember because I wouldn’t invite you, I don’t even like you, especially at this moment in time.’ After a brief pause, Sav grinned for the first time since waking, and threw his straw-filled pillow at Fal, which missed and hit the wall next to Fal’s head before falling to the floor.

  ‘I hope your aim is better with your bow, scout? Can’t have people with such an awful aim patrolling our borders now can we?’

  ‘Alright, enough,’ Sav said, releasing another sigh. ‘I’m defenceless to all this mocking. Can’t you see how delicate I am at the moment?’ Dropping his head back to the bed, Sav rolled onto his front and smothered his face in the covers where the pillow had been.

  ‘Only one thing for that, Sav – hair of the dog,’ Fal said, taking his friend’s woollen tunic from the floor and throwing it over him. ‘Come on, let’s go drink and get some greasy food down you.’

  Groaning, Sav rolled back over, swung his long legs from the bed and grabbed Fal to help himself up. After pulling on a pair of mix matched woollen hose from the floor, his boots and tunic, Sav pushed Fal onto the bed and strode to the door. As he opened it he paused, turned to Fal and said, ‘Come on then, you can’t lie in bed all evening, there’s drinking to be done.’

  Fal shook his head once more and watched his friend leave the room.

  ‘How does he do it?’ he thought aloud, before jumping off the bed and running after Sav, slamming the door shut behind him.

  ***

  ‘Morri, Morri, come quick, we have another one with the same symptoms,’ an elderly woman shouted up a simple flight of wooden stairs, stairs which led to the chambers of one of the infirmary’s resident clerics.

  A young man dressed in a dark green woollen nightgown came running down the stairs, clearly woken by the woman’s shouting and not looking best pleased.

  ‘What is it Midrel? I’m trying to sleep.’ The cleric brushed a messy blonde fringe from his eyes and yawned as he entered a treatment room the old woman had hurried into upon his arrival.

  ‘I’m sorry, Morri,’ she said, as he entered. ‘I thought ye should see this straight away. This man has the same symptoms as the two brothers who were arrested the other night and brought here. Ye know the two I mean, Llard and Bein?’ she asked, talking slowly and loudly as if Morri’s tiredness made him hard of hearing.

  The cleric simply nodded his head whilst holding his oil lamp over the prone, unconscious man. ‘Some blisters on the face and hands—’

  ‘Also on the rest of his body,’ Midrel said. ‘I had a look. He’s burning up too, and it’s far from warm in here, that’s for sure.’ The elderly woman rubbed her arms as if to accentuate the point. ‘The room's hearth’s not been lit like the others, but I didn’t want him put with anyone else whilst in this state.’

  ‘You did the right thing keeping him separate,’ Morri said, smiling at the woman. ‘Hold this.’ He passed her the oil lamp before continuing. ‘His pulse is weak but steady, when did he come in and who brought him?’

  ‘Dunno who brought him.’ She shrugged. ‘He sat in the entrance hall alone. When I heard him coughing I went through and tried to talk to him, he didn’t reply… well, he passed out there and then so he never had the chance. I asked Orrel to assist me lifting him in here.’

  ‘The guards didn’t see anyone with him?’

  Shaking her head, the woman looked a little guilty. ‘I’m sorry, Morri, I was serving Orrel and his friend tea in the kitchen. I know they should be at the door, but it gets ever so cold in the dead of night.’

  Morri smiled and held his hands up. ‘Never mind that, the guards’ main job is to protect us, so I guess there’s no better protection than having them right by your side, is there?’

  Smiling, Midrel turned back to the patient and her smile turned into a grimace. ‘I didn’t expect I’d see anyone like this after those two men the other night. I thought they might’ve been poisoned or drugged, being the sort of men the guards said they were. Maybe this fellow’s a ganger?’

  Morri looked at the man on the bed curiously. ‘I have to agree I haven’t seen anything like this before. And to have two separate cases within a week… unless this man has had dealings in whatever the other two have? Like you say, all three could be gangers and could easily have taken something, or been handling some dangerous substances from a ship. It’s not our place to assume these things though.’

  ‘It’s not as if we can ask or even have the guards interrogate them though, Morri. Those two brothers are still out cold and looking worse by the day, no matter what we try. I’m really surprised the one with the knife wound survived at all, let alone this long.’

  ‘Well, let’s hope there are no more like this then, eh Midrel? I must speak to Master Orix personally about this tomorrow. Seek his advice on a cure if there is one, since any attempt at magical healing hasn’t worked. Only recently he asked to be informed about any unseasonal illnesses. I doubt he had something like this on his mind, but I’ll check with him anyway.

  ‘For now,’ Morri added, whilst rubbing his eyes, ‘keep trying the same as you did on the other two, and ask your guard friend, Orrel, to watch over this one. If he is an associate of
the brothers, we don’t want him waking and setting about you, do we?’ The young man placed both hands on his assistant’s shoulders and smiled.

  Her eyes widened. ‘Oh no, we do not! I’d be sure to give him a good clout if he tried, mind.’

  Morri laughed, took his lamp from Midrel and climbed the stairs back to his bed. Tomorrow he would seek an audience with the master cleric of his guild, and see if any of the other infirmaries had experienced anything similar.

  Chapter 5: Visitors

  Orix was reading a book written in Sirretan when he heard his name across the guild lounge.

  ‘Yes, he’s sat over there as usual,’ a rather rounded female wizard said.

  Morri walked over towards the old gnome with a worried look on his handsome face.

  ‘Good day Morri,’ Orix said, a smile peeking from beneath his beard. ‘What can I do for you this fine day?’

  The young cleric returned Orix’s smile, although not whole-heartedly, Orix noticed.

  ‘Master Orix, I wish to report a rather strange case at my infirmary,’ he said solemnly.

  Orix gestured to a chair opposite his own as his heart quickened, and the young man took a seat.

  And so it begins. ‘Tell me about it,’ Orix said, placing his book face down on the arm of the chair and leaning forward to listen.

  ‘Well, Master Orix, the first case, or should I say two, were admitted a few nights ago by the City Guard. Two men, brothers in fact, said to be known thugs of the area, had been beaten unconscious and found by a group of sailors in Market Square. One had been stabbed in the chest; lucky for him it wasn’t fatal.’

  Orix made an effort to look confused as he replied, ‘Nothing out of the ordinary there for your infirmary, Morri?’

  ‘Well no Master Orix, not at all, but the night after they were admitted, they both became feverish and one of the two men, shortly followed by the other, claimed to be exhausted and lacked any strength whatsoever. I could understand this after the beating they had taken, especially the one who'd been stabbed, but I couldn’t explain the blister like boils on the skin of both men.’

  Orix tugged at his beard and staring off into space whilst nodding here and there. Not quite how I thought it would manifest itself, but these two fit Falchion’s description and so these must be the symptoms.

  ‘Fellow clerics I have spoken to,’ Morri continued, ‘and my assistant at the infirmary thought perhaps they had been poisoned during the fight somehow, but no poison we know of acts in this way. Nor could it be drugs after so many days, or none I know of?’

  Orix made no move to offer any answers to Morri, and so the cleric continued.

  ‘They’re still very much alive, although very sick. They can speak quite easily about events, although the guards think the story about being attacked by sailors is false, created to hide what they were really up to or involved in. I see no value in any attacker poisoning them with something which leaves them able to bear witness to their attacker’s identity though?’

  Orix nodded his head as his cleric went on.

  ‘I’ve also never seen an illness come on so fast and simultaneously between two patients.

  ‘Adding to the mystery,’ Morri said, just as Orix opened his mouth to speak, ‘last night my night watch assistant, Midrel, woke me.’ Orix nodded at the name, having met the talented – although not magically adept – woman several times. ‘She showed me another man who’d been brought in unconscious, with exactly the same symptoms as the other two. Unfortunately, we don’t know who brought him in, and he hasn’t woken for us to question him yet. I currently have all three under guard and constant watch.’ Morri leaned forward, awaiting some insight from the master cleric.

  ‘Good,’ Orix said, nodding, but not looking directly at Morri, something the young cleric found out of character for the old gnome.

  After a long pause, Orix took a deep breath. He let it out slowly, nodded once as if to himself, and then continued, eyes now locked on Morri’s. ‘I want you to keep all three guarded at all times, and record their symptoms and progress. Have you tried any remedies, unguents or potions at all?’

  ‘Well yes, Master Orix, I tried the usual for the fever on the original two men, as has Midrel on the third, but to no avail. I’ve also tried magical healing, but again it's had no effect. As for the strange boils, we’re at a loss as they’re not usual boils, pocks or mumps even. Hence my visit to you. You'd also requested reports on anything unusual.’

  Orix nodded approvingly. ‘I want you to stop any treatment, Morri. This doesn’t sound like any normal fever we know of anyway and I want to see how it progresses.’

  Morri’s head rocked back slightly. ‘But Master Orix, surely we can’t just sit and watch? Should we not consult the other infirmaries and clerics of the guild? Perhaps have clerics search our archives to see if this has occurred in the past, or anywhere else?’

  Orix shook his head and replied sternly. ‘No, Morri. Leave it to me. Just record the symptoms as I said, and I will look into the archives. You have other priorities to tend to I’m sure, and I would like to have something to distract me from my usual routine. If I find anything helpful I will be sure to let you know immediately. Until then, keep the three patients comfortable and most importantly, guarded!’

  ‘Very well Master Orix,’ Morri reluctantly agreed, his disappointment evident in his expression. ‘I’ll be sure to record all happenings and have a messenger bring you the reports at the end of each day, if you wish?’

  ‘Yes, that would be grand, thank you Morri. You may return to your infirmary now.’

  Morri stood, bowed and walked out of the lounge.

  Oh lad, you’re too good sometimes, and certainly don’t deserve this. I truly am sorry.

  ***

  Sav woke to a beam of light shining on his face. No matter where he moved his head, the light seemed to hit him directly in the eyes. He sat up and swung his legs off the bed, rising to close his window blinds – blinds already closed. Quickly looking around the room, he again caught an intense bright light shining from the corner of the room. He lifted both hands to shade his eyes and jumped back, startled, nearly falling over his bedside chest as he saw the source of the light.

  ‘Errolas! What are you doing here? Cut it out will you!?’ Sav said, a mixture of surprise and annoyance in his voice.

  Melodic laughter flowed from behind the bright light, followed by an equally melodic voice. ‘Did I startle you, scout? Tut… tut… your skills are waning with all your drinking of ale and mead since you returned to your city. I apologise for the light, it seemed amusing to me. Still does in fact.’ As Errolas spoke, the light blinked out just long enough to allow Sav to lower his hands, before flicking on again, shining into his eyes once more.

  ‘Enough, enough… Yes, very amusing, now quit it and tell me what you’re doing here in Wesson, not to mention my room?’ Sav was now clearly more annoyed than surprised.

  ‘Very well scout, as you wish.’ The light once again blinked out. ‘It’s just a star stone,’ Errolas said. ‘I’ve had it since childhood, still amuses me though.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure it does,’ Sav said, rubbing at his sleep filled eyes.

  ‘I decided to visit your capital, is the answer to your question. So I thought I would drop in and visit you while I am here. You really should bar your window though. It is very easy for someone to open and climb through, especially when you sleep so heavily. I even had time to close it behind me, shut the blind, walk around your bed and tease you with the stone, all before you stirred.’

  I only stirred because of the damned stone.

  ‘Most people use the door and knock,’ Sav said, whilst stretching. ‘Anyway, how did you find out where I was staying? You’ve never been to Wesson as far as I know, so you wouldn’t know where to start looking.’

  Errolas smiled wryly, crossed the room and brushed the dust off a small stool in the corner, before sitting on it and answering Sav’s question. ‘I asked at the
eastern gatehouse.’

  ‘And they just told you?’ Sav asked incredulously.

  ‘Of course,’ Errolas replied, still smiling. ‘When someone of my race asks an honest question, people tend to give an honest answer.’ As he spoke, Errolas brought his hand up to a soft leather pouch, hanging around his neck.

  Sneaky bastard! Sav stood up suddenly, pointing at the pouch. He laughed. ‘You used some fairie dust or something, didn’t you? Didn’t you Errolas?’

  Feigning a look of horror, Errolas brought his hand quickly down from the pouch. ‘I’m hurt you’d even think I’d use such a dishonest trick. Not that fairie dust would actually do that, but that’s beside the point.’

  Sav sat back down and shook his head. ‘You’re not hurt at all, and you’re not a very good liar either.’

  ‘You’re right, I’m not,’ Errolas said, another smile spreading across his angular face once again. ‘How else would you expect me to find you in this jungle of stone and mortar?’

  ‘Well, I doubt you could,’ Sav said, ‘but once you found me, you could’ve come through the front door, asked for me and knocked like a normal human being.’

  ‘Ahh… but there you have it, scout, I’m no human being. And what I did was far more fun anyway.’ Leaning back on the wall and crossing his arms, Errolas looked completely satisfied.

  Sav sighed. ‘What’s the use,’ he said, defeated. ‘So you’re here for a visit are you; a grand tour of our capital city? Well, you came to the right man, I can show you all the landmarks and all the best drinking holes too.’ Sav grinned.

  ‘That, scout, I’m sure you could. Alas, I doubt I will take you up on the latter as I’m not here completely on leisure, and so need to keep my wits about me, but a tour of your landmarks and your great city would be wonderful.’

  Not here completely on leisure, eh, elf?

  ‘Oh, I see,’ Sav said, his eyes now boring into Errolas’.’

  ‘You wonder what business could bring me here? Quite understandable. I am, after all, in your home, quite literally.’