by Rob J. Hayes
“You are one of them Arbiters then,” she said and it wasn’t a question.
Thanquil nodded. “The coat usually gives it away.”
“That thing?” the woman asked, nodding across the bed. Thanquil followed her gesture and saw his coat hanging next to him, stained and ripped in multiple places and now darkened with smudges of soot and ash. That coat was a part of Thanquil and he felt naked without it. “I saw it,” she continued. “Wasn’t sure but I thought that’s what it was. None of the others would dare come near you even after I made it an order.”
Thanquil snorted. “Aye. Afraid I’d burn them, no doubt.”
The woman’s face went hard. “So it was you who started the fire?”
He shook his head. “No but it was meant for me. A witch with a keen sense of irony strapped me down and tried to set me on fire. One day I hope to repay her in kind.”
“Will I have to save her once she jumps out of a window and feints as well?” the woman asked with a smile.
Thanquil scoffed. “I didn’t feint. I passed out. There’s a difference.”
The woman patted his leg. “Of course there is.” She stood. “You need to rest, a couple of days at least. If you need anything just yell for me.”
Thanquil had a feeling the woman was right about the rest, he could feel how heavy his limbs were and how the weight of the world seemed to be tugging at his eyelids. “I might need your name for that.”
“Shen,” the woman said in her dusky tone as she walked away.
Three days after escaping the burning inn and Thanquil was far from satisfied with his recovery. His back and legs were healing nicely from the splinters that had riddled him after the demon made kindling of the bed. They were scabbed over and, though they still occasionally oozed a little, they itched like a fire ant attack. Itching, Shen assured him, was a good sign.
His shoulder was another matter altogether. Rarely had an injury been so much of an annoyance save the burn that covered most of his right hand and about a third of his right arm. At least he had earned the burn during his fight with the heretical Inquisitor Heron; being so injured by a poor landing from a twenty feet drop seemed embarrassing by comparison.
Shen was never far. She had plenty of other patients, that much was certainly true, but around Thanquil she lingered. He had seen similar reactions in many folk before, usually men and usually for a different reason. Some people were so scared of Arbiters they wouldn’t come within shouting distance in case they were noticed by the witch hunter, others would make a daring game of who could stay in the Arbiter’s company for the longest. It was no small wonder to Thanquil that, despite him being part of the Inquisition, the most feared organisation in the known world, and despite him having the power to both judge and sentence people on sight and at a whim, some folk continued to seek out his company. Shen was without a doubt one of those folk. Her torrent of questions always seemed endless.
“How does one become an Arbiter?”
“How long does the training take?”
“Do you enjoy your work?”
“Why do you burn people?”
“Who is Jezzet?”
The inquisitive healer even had the gall to ask Thanquil how many people he had murdered. He had long ago stopped counting but he wouldn’t have answered even had he been able to remember; some things were best left to God.
“How is the witch hunter doing today?” Shen asked as she approached. The morning light had been shining in through the windows for easily an hour and one of the younger healers had already been round with the breakfast meal; she had stopped and talked with most of the others, at least those that were conscious, but the young woman all but threw Thanquil’s food at him before fleeing from his sight.
“Tired,” Thanquil growled as he pushed himself into a sitting position. He no longer had to use a curse to dull his senses to mask the pain and for that he thanked Volmar but the tiredness grated his nerves. It seemed almost as if weariness had seeped deep into his bones and no amount of sleep could rid him of it.
“That’s to be expected, Arbiter,” Shen said with a smile as she perched on the end of his bed. “It will almost certainly take a week or two before you’re back to running around looking for people to burn.”
“I usually heal quite quickly,” Thanquil said, “but this time…” he could already feel the energy draining away from him, tugging at his eyelids. His shoulders drooped and he let out a dogged sigh.
“Men…” Shen said shaking her head. “Always seem to think you’re invincible and always lament when you find out you’re not.”
Thanquil snorted. “I long ago learned I’m not. Jezzet’s the invincible one.”
“What does she look like?”
Thanquil felt the corners of his mouth tug into a smile and he was just about to answer when he caught himself. He composed himself. “Surely you have some sort of brew or tonic or herb that can speed healing or at least give me the energy to get under way.”
Shen shrugged. “None that will serve you half so well as few more days rest.”
“I don’t have the time.”
“Still on about chasing that witch, are you? Besides, in your condition if you step outside you’ll probably end up with a rope around your neck. I can’t protect you out there.”
On the first day a group had gathered outside the infirmary and had shouted and threatened and demanded Shen bring out the witch hunter. It appeared some of the folk in Colmere blamed him for the fire and they made enough a racket that Thanquil had heard it even abed. Some had apparently thrown a few rocks but Shen had put a stop to that. The healer seemed to have a tight grip on the village inhabitants, rare for a woman in the Dragon Empire, but if he was seen outside and unable to defend himself the mob would rally and there would be nothing she could do. It pained Thanquil to admit it but Shen was right; he would just have to wait until his body had healed itself. Either that or sneak out in the dead of night when all but the most foolhardy were long since asleep.
“You should get some more rest,” Shen said with a warm smile that lit up her face. She was beautiful in a strange matronly way that was not unappealing to Thanquil.
He shook his head but he could already feel that she was right. “I feel as though I’ve only just woke up.”
“Go back to sleep,” she said still smiling. “There’ll be plenty of time to hunt that witch of yours when you’re back to full strength.”
She pushed on his chest gently and despite his desire to struggle and stay awake Thanquil felt himself give in and sank back down into the bed.
“I should really…”
“Shhhh,” he heard her whisper as his eyes closed and for the briefest moment he thought he felt her lips on his own. Then he was gone.
Thanquil
Thanquil laughed along with Shen. “Honestly, a bed pan. He must have killed hundreds of people, including more than a few Arbiters, and I found him stealing a bed pan.”
“He sounds like an interesting taecko,” Shen said using the word in her own tongue for sell sword. She was once again sitting on the far end of his bed, looking at him with her ice blue eyes crinkled at the edges with a little age and a lot of laughter. Her hand was on his leg, just below his knee and her touch felt somehow reassuring.
“He was,” Thanquil admitted. “I’d say interesting would probably be the best way to describe him.” His laughter trailed off as he remembered.
“What happened to him?” Shen asked. Her smile gone, her face now full of concern. She had a strange way of reading his emotions like he was an open book.
“He… uh,” Thanquil looked away, unable to meet her eyes. “He’s dead.”
Her hand left his leg and she shot him a queer look. “You killed him?”
“No!” Thanquil all but shouted. “Or maybe yes. I sent him after someone else, someone beyond him. I didn’t kill him. I just got him killed.” It felt strange to admit it. His guilt over Thorn’s death was something he’d never reve
aled to anyone, not even Jezzet.
They were both silent for a while before Shen finally broke the quiet. “I’m sure it wasn’t…”
A scream ripped through the air coming from the far end of the room. One of the burn victims had awoken to find half his body blackened to a crisp and one of his legs missing. It was fair to say the discovery caused him some surprise.
Shen leapt up from the bed. One of the other healers was already beside the screaming man but such an injury would need the best and that was Shen.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “I need to go. You should rest.”
Thanquil nodded, his eyelids feeling heavy as the healer hurried away to deal with the burned man. He watched her work from his bed, watched how she soothed and calmed, how she ministered over his wounds and how she ordered the other healers about despite more than one being twice her age. Shen seemed to do a good job of calming the man before brewing a cup of tea and helping him drink, within minutes the man was unconscious again and she stood, wiping a bloody hand across her brow. She glanced once in Thanquil’s direction and smiled before another of the healers dragged her into the next room.
He acted quickly, shifting over in the bed and reaching across until he had hold of his coat. There were ten pockets in his Arbiter coat and each contained a variety of runes, charms and other useful items but Thanquil had long ago taken to memorising what he kept in each pocket. It was sometimes difficult due to his tendency to steal things without realising but his hands found the correct pocket and the correct charm in short order. It was a small strip of paper no wider than two fingers and no longer than his hand and on it was inked a single symbol imbued with energy. A sleepless charm. It wouldn’t stop the affected from feeling tired but it would stop them from falling asleep or losing consciousness; a powerful charm and a dangerous one if used incorrectly but Thanquil had years of practice with it. He pushed his coat back into position and sealed the charm to his skin, just above his knee before pulling the blanket up to cover it. Then he waited.
The sun had long since move past its zenith when Shen returned, it was in fact dimming quite rapidly in the infirmary and one of the young boys had recently been around to light candles. Thanquil thought it no small wonder that they would still trust him so close to an open flame, many no doubt still blamed him for the burning down of the inn and the majority of the injured currently occupying the very same building he did.
“I thought I told you to rest,” Shen said as she approached. She looked tired, weary from a day’s heavy exertion, smudged with blood and grimy with sweat. Somehow it only managed to increase her appeal.
“You did,” Thanquil said with a grin. “But I’ve never been very good at following orders. Defiant, Jezzet called me. Said I did it on purpose though she could never figure out why.”
The curvy healer nodded. “It sounds like you really care for her.”
Thanquil looked at Shen for a few seconds before judging the time was right to look away. “I suppose so. I really should be leaving sometime. How long before my shoulder is fully healed.”
Now it was Shen’s turn to look away. “Joint injuries are always the worst to heal. I wouldn’t say any more than another week at most. Are you really in such a hurry to get back?”
“Back… I have a witch to hunt, Shen.”
She snorted. “You should just leave her alone. She does nothing but good for the people.”
Thanquil suppressed a grin, they were finally getting somewhere. “Please, Shen, tell me everything you know. Do not make me ask you.”
She looked at him and her ice blue eyes were cold and hard. “Try it and I’ll have you strapped to the bed.”
“I’ve been strapped to more than enough beds recently, thank you. The witch, Shen, you know more than you’re letting on.”
“Is chasing her all you care about?”
Thanquil started to push himself up, as if to leave the bed. Her hand went to his chest and she pushed gently. He made a show of struggling against her until she bent close to him.
“Sleep,” she whispered at him and he felt it then; his limbs went leaden and his eyelids drooped, energy seemed to leak from every part of his body as he collapsed back onto the bed.
Shen’s face hovered just inches above his own; the cold look in her eyes was gone, replaced by one of pity. “Sleep now.”
Thanquil closed his eyes and slumped, letting every part of him go loose. Again he felt her lips against his own for a moment and then she whispered in his ear. “I’m sorry.”
Shen waited only a brief moment before striding away. Thanquil listened to her footsteps retreat and kept his ruse. If his judgement on time was anything to go by he would have to wait only two hours before the sun had well and truly set and darkness once again ruled the sky. He would need the shadows if he was to accomplish his task.
Those two hours proved to be some of the longest of his life. He soon discovered pretending to be asleep was about as much fun as it sounded and it sounded far from fun to begin with. Shen never made another appearance or at least she never spoke if she did. He heard some of the other healers from time to time, they whispered and occasionally he heard his name but Thanquil wasn’t about to risk blessing his senses just to eavesdrop on some gossip.
When the noises died down and eventually stopped that was when he risked cracking an eye open. He scanned the room quickly and found it empty of healers, only the sick and injured remained and most of those were either sleeping or long past waking ever again.
Holding his breath Thanquil swung first one leg over the side of the bed then another before hopping down onto the floor. His legs wobbled but held and he clutched to the bed for support. He had been injured before and worse than this but never had he felt so weak, that was proof enough for him that this was no natural malady.
Taking a deep breath he began chanting a blessing of strength and felt new power surge into his limbs burning away the weakness. He expertly combined it with a blessing of endurance. There were not many Arbiters who could use dual blessings but it was a skill Thanquil had long ago mastered. His own skill with a sword may be lacking but he had always excelled at his studies where blessings and curses were involved.
Thanquil tore the sling from his left arm and worked the shoulder joint. It screamed in pain still but it was nothing he couldn’t live with. He pulled on his worn, faded trousers and quickly belted them, reassured by the familiar weight of his sword and pistol. His shirt was missing and he remembered leaving it back at the inn when he was leaping out a window. He pulled his coat around his shoulders and threaded both arms through the sleeves, tugging the leather duster into position. Finally he looked around for his boots but found none, those too he must have left back at the inn. Barefoot was never a good idea but sometimes, Thanquil knew, needs must.
Most of the other patients were asleep, resting and recovering but one man was watching Thanquil through a wary eye. Half of the man’s face was covered in thick bandages stained a muddy red with fresh seepage. He made no move to talk or warn anyone of the witch hunter’s imminent departure, only watched as Thanquil made ready to sneak from the infirmary.
Thanquil walked past the man, not willing to look. “I’m sorry,” he said in a quiet voice. “I didn’t start the fire but… Sorry.”
The man said nothing in reply and Thanquil decided to take his leave.
The door to the infirmary was unlocked but even had it been Thanquil would have found a way. In his youth he’d spent no small amount of time with a gang of thieves in Sarth. It had sated his need to steal and taught him a great many skills he had found useful in life; chief among them, running away.
He cracked the door open a jar and thanked Volmar the hinges were well oiled; it made not a sound. Peering out he saw a hallway beyond, lit by the dull orange flicker of candle light. It was no wonder places burned down when folk left untended open flames in buildings made of wood. Back in Sarth the majority of the city was stone. The kingdom was known for its n
ear limitless supply of brilliant white marble and, as a show of wealth and power, most of the city was built from the beautiful substance. Of course the white marble had a nasty habit of becoming dirty and faded so most of the city was also cleaned daily by an army of slaves. Not a practice that Thanquil personally agreed with but then it certainly wasn’t his place to make policy, especially as, being a wandering Arbiter, he spent most of his time out in the world hunting heresy, not sat in a comfortable room writing rules on paper.
The corridor looked empty from his relatively narrow vantage point and he could hear nothing outside the faint hiss and pop of the candle and the ragged snoring of a patient behind him. Still chanting his blessings of strength and endurance Thanquil edged through the gap in the door and pulled it close behind him.
Ahead was another door, the same as the one he had just come through. Thanquil decided the wise money was on it being another ward for patients and decided it was best left alone. To his left the hallway ran straight forwards with a looping staircase to on one side and a door to the other. Thanquil padded up to the door, the bare floor rough against the soles of his feet, and snuck a glance out of the shuttered window. He saw bare earth, a raised platform with a hastily constructed stock and clear dark sky alight with more stars than he could count. That brief sight reminded him of Jezzet, she had always loved the stars, usually so jittery and energetic, the stars seemed able to capture her attention in a way nothing else could so that she would sit and watch the lights twinkle in and out of existence for hours. The memory both gladdened and saddened Thanquil and he turned away from the exit and from freedom and instead mounted the first stair.
Thanquil
The top stair creaked as his weight hit it and Thanquil froze. He waited, straining his ears for any sign that someone had heard. Time seemed to stretch on forever as he hesitated with one foot on the stair behind and the other on the creaking plank of wood that was determined to betray his presence.