The Price of Faith

by Rob J. Hayes

  Nothing.

  With a smug sneer towards the offending stair Thanquil pulled his foot back and stepped up to the landing. As if to mock him the first floorboard of the landing let out a loud groan as his full weight hit it. Thanquil breathed a silent sigh.

  He had stopped chanting his blessings for now. It made him feel weak and every inch of him seemed to ache but too much use of a blessing would tire him out further, make him weary and unfocused. Right now Thanquil needed his mind to be sharp. He wasn’t certain of what he might encounter in the next room, let alone the rest of the little village and he needed to keep his wits about him at all costs.

  Thanquil stopped at the first door he came across and pressed his ear up against the rough wood. There was no sound from within and no light spilled around the edges of the frame so he quickly moved towards the next door. Again he moved close and pressed his ear to wood.

  “… not your choice to make,” said a male voice heavily accented by the region.

  “And you think the choice should belong to you?” replied a female voice that sounded a lot like Shen despite the muffling provided by the door.

  “Yes!”

  “Well it doesn’t. This is my hospital and so long as it remains that way anyone and everyone inside of it is my responsibility. I will not allow you to murder a man who can’t defend himself.”

  “You can’t stop us, woman. Whole town’s behind me. We reached an accord, all of us…”

  “Not me.”

  “Women don't get a vote. Either you bring the witch hunter out or…”

  “Or what, Hizo? You’ll smash your way in here and take him by force? You do that who will heal you or that fool son or yours next time a wound gets infected? What about next time one of the village folk gets Pink Fly eggs, who will dig them out without me around? Who will pull Wowo’s child from between her legs next month without me around? One of the other girls? Not a one of them even knows how to stitch a wound without me looking over their shoulder.”

  There was a short silence before Hizo spoke again. “You wouldn’t leave on account of him. What is he to you?”

  “He’s in my care and I… I won’t… can’t let any harm come to him.”

  Another silence.

  “He’ll kill you,” Hizo said almost too softly for Thanquil to hear.

  Thanquil pulled back from the door in shock. Things were starting to click into place. How Shen was able to command people to sleep with nothing but a word, her ability to heal others and the other villagers' deferral to her. She looked different from the apparition Thanquil had seen back in the inn just before it had burned to the ground but it all made sense now. Shen was the witch he was hunting, the witch he had been sent to kill.

  He shook his head as he thought through everything that had happened since he left the capital. There was one thing that didn’t make sense; if Shen was the witch why was she protecting him now when she had spent the past two months trying so hard to kill him. She’d burned down the inn in an attempt to see him dead and now she was denying the villagers the chance to do her work for her.

  The door opened and Hizo stood on the other side of the threshold staring at Thanquil with his mouth slightly ajar. He was a big man, a good head taller than Thanquil which made him near a giant as far as the Dragon Empire was concerned, and had enough bulk to make him more than a little dangerous. People from these parts were fruit collectors for the most part, used to climbing up and down trees all day, they were tough and strong but they were not fighters.

  Thanquil counted himself lucky that Hizo was caught off guard by the appearance of the witch hunter as he launched himself at the villager pushing him hard in the chest. Hizo took a single step backwards onto his left foot and growled before swinging a heavy punch at Thanquil’s face.

  Thanquil ducked the punch, started chanting a blessing of strength and sent a silent prayer of thanks to Jezzet for teaching him a few of her more choice unarmed combat moves. He sent a blessed fist into Hizo’s kidney and winced as the bigger man dropped to his knees with a cry of pain. Thanquil knew first hand just how much a blow like that could hurt, Jez had always been more of a hands on teacher. He quickly stepped behind Hizo and wrapped his arms around the man’s neck just like Jezzet had taught him. The Blademaster had shown him the exact placement needed to cut off the blood supply to person’s brain just long enough to make them loose consciousness. She had once used the move on Thanquil and by the time he had woken she had fully disrobed and was busy…

  Hizo lurched to his feet, lifting Thanquil onto his back, and stumbled backwards. Thanquil hit the wall hard and both men crashed through the old wooden planks into the room beyond. The bigger man fell back and landed on top of Thanquil but still he did not release his hold, only gripped tighter.

  Thanquil heard Shen shouting something from somewhere nearby but he didn’t have the time to look for the witch. He needed to deal with her minion quickly so he could fight them one at a time.

  Hizo was weak now, his hands pawed impotently at Thanquil’s blessing enhanced arms and his mouth worked open and closed like that of a fish on dry land. Then the big man went limp and still.

  Rolling Hizo away Thanquil forced himself to his feet. His shoulder hurt like it had recently been pulled from its socket and his legs seemed to wobble as stood. The witch let out a gasp and rushed forwards, kneeling by Hizo and putting her hand to his neck.

  “He’s alive,” she exclaimed with a sigh.

  Thanquil snorted. “Well of course he is,” his blessing of strength faded as he began to speak and his limbs felt heavy, like they were weighted down by some indomitable force. “If I’d wanted to kill him I would have drawn my sword.”

  “Then why did you attack him?” she demanded. Her face was flushed red and her eyes looked damp. Thanquil found himself feeling decidedly guilty.

  “I… well… I mean… he…” Thanquil let out a growl and grabbed hold of Shen, wrenching her to her feet and pushing her up against the wall. His scarred right hand went to her neck and his left hand pulled the pistol from his belt. He pointed the barrel at the witches head and cocked the hammer. She put a light, calloused hand on his bare chest and whispered at him.

  “Sleep.”

  He felt his eyelids grow heavy but the magic would not work, could not work. The sleepless charm he wore would prevent him from losing consciousness under any circumstances.

  “I think it’s about time we had a proper chat, Shen. Are you the witch?”

  The woman’s eyes went wide as Thanquil’s will locked onto her own and forced the truth from her and she shook her head violently. “No I’m not.”

  “You’re… what…”

  Shen’s eyes were wet with tears but in testament to her own strength she refused to let them fall. “I’m not a witch, Arbiter. I swear to you.”

  Thanquil let go of her neck and began rooting around in one of the hidden pockets of his coat but he kept his pistol trained on the woman. His hand closed around the item he was looking for and he pulled out a small green gemstone, normally dull and lightless but with Thanquil’s touch it glowed with a warm inner blaze. The gem was ensconced in a small bronze housing with a long chain attached. To the untrained eye it would look no more than an item of jewellery, a necklace suited to those of lesser wealth, but the Arbiters of the Inquisition knew better. The gemstone glowed when touched by one with the potential to wield the powers of magic.

  He let the gemstone drop and caught the chain between the maimed fingers of his right hand. Without his touch to sustain it the glow of the gem ceased and it once again became dull and lifeless. He held the gem up to Shen’s head. She flinched but didn’t cower. Thanquil respected her for that. The green gem did not glow; its inner light remained well and truly dead.

  Thanquil whipped the gemstone away and shoved it back into his pocket. He backed away a step, lowering his pistol, and tripped over the prone form of Hizo. Before he could catch himself he tumbled backwards, landing on somethin
g soft and banging his head against the wooden wall of the room. Shen was there beside him in an instant, attempting to minister to the bump but Thanquil shoved her away. He glanced down to find he had landed on a bed, no doubt Shen’s bed given the close proximity to her study.

  “But you used magic,” he said as much to himself as to the healer.

  Shen shook her head. “When?”

  “You kept commanding me to sleep.”

  “You were tired.”

  “No… well yes but it was more than that. I could feel the magic at work, sapping my strength.”

  “Oh… that.”

  He glanced at her. She kept her eyes lowered.

  “Shen, tell me.”

  “Your shoulder was worse than I let you know,” she said still staring at her feet. “You tore the muscle from the bone. It was unlikely to heal on its own. I didn’t make you sleep. I sped up the healing. It tends to drain the patient.”

  Thanquil shook his head. “Magic. But you don’t have the potential. It shouldn’t be possible for you to use magic.”

  Shen shrugged. “I don’t know, I just can. I’ve had the ability for a couple of years now. I could… I could probably heal your hand,” she said and placed her own hand on his right. He didn’t pull away.

  “No,” Thanquil said. The hand wasn’t crippled, only burned, the skin had never healed right but it served as a reminder to the heresy of the dark Inquisitor. It served as a reminder to what he fought against.

  “I should go,” Thanquil said.

  “Please don’t,” Shen leaned her left shoulder into his right. “You could stay. Here with me.”

  Something about the situation still didn’t seem right to Thanquil, not least of all because he was tempted. “I have a witch to find, Shen.”

  “You won’t. Find her, I mean. Not unless she wants to be found.”

  He pulled his hand away and narrowed his eyes, set his jaw. His face became stone. “You know more than you’re telling me.”

  “I…”

  “Do not make me force the truth from you.”

  “She arrived a few years ago. Ever since our harvest have been plentiful, people don’t fall ill so much, we’ve less still-borns and the storms don’t touch us no more. She’s done nothing but good for us, for everyone. She’s not a witch, she’s a sorceress.”

  Thanquil snorted. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Tell me where I can find her.”

  Shen shut her mouth, leapt up and ran for the door but Thanquil was quicker. He caught her wrist, span her around and threw her back onto the bed, pressing his own weight down on top of her. She whimpered but her mouth remained closed.

  Thanquil resigned himself to asking one last question as he stared down at the healer. “Where is the witch?”

  Shen’s eyes widened in fear as she tried to fight the compulsion. Tried and failed. “Fort Talon.”

  Thanquil sighed. “Where is Fort Talon?”

  “Four days travel west.”

  Thanquil could feel the intense pleasure that came from using the compulsion. The ecstasy was a wonderful contrast to the pain in his shoulder. He wanted to ask more questions, needed to ask more. Just one more.

  “Who rules Fort Talon?” he asked.

  “Prince Naarsk.”

  “A Dragon Prince is in league with a witch?”

  “Yes.” Shen burst into tears, rivers running down her face into the linen of the bed.

  The sight of the healer crying stopped him, shocked him from his addiction. Thanquil pushed himself off the bed and stumbled away, again tripping over the prone body of Hizo, this time hitting the floor as he fell.

  He was shaking. His hands, his arms, his legs, even his head. He was shaking all over from the rush of pleasure from using the compulsion. Thanquil didn’t trust himself to speak any more, didn’t trust his own tongue for what it might say. Silently he pushed back to his feet and made for the door.

  “Please don’t…” Shen said between sobs. “Please don’t go.”

  Thanquil turned once and glanced back at the healer. She wasn’t on the bed any more, she was on the floor, on her knees, begging him not to leave, tears still streaming down her face.

  Without a word Thanquil threw open the door and fled.

  Thanquil

  Thom, probably the most prolific, infamous and apparently immortal thief Thanquil had ever met had once told him he was a brilliant pick-pocket and an accomplished sneak-thief. Of course Thom had accompanied the compliment by stealing the purse from Thanquil’s belt and sending him on his way none the wiser. That being said Thanquil knew a few things, one of them being how to steal from unlocked houses in poor rural villages in the dead of night. So, by the time he left the village of Colmere Thanquil had procured an ill-fitting shirt made from the itchiest fabric known to man and a pair of well-worn boots better suited to the fire than to cover anyone’s feet.

  Shen didn’t come after him and nor did she send anyone in her stead. Doubtless she would receive no small amount of grief from the villagers for allowing him to leave as such but she didn’t seem the type of woman to crack under such pressure. Still, Thanquil couldn’t help but remember her on her knees, crying and pleading with him. The memory made him shudder but it was more to do with his own actions than her response. Thanquil had long ago sworn not to give in to the addiction of the compulsion but it was something he had to fight every day; a nagging, gnawing need to dominate other people's will. He was disgusted at himself for allowing even that slight lapse in his intent.

  Finding west in the night sky, with no sun to guide him, might have been a real problem but Thanquil soon discovered a small, dirt road, well worn with the sign of hooves, leading out of the village. An old wooden sign with the word Talon on it was almost more than he could have hoped. It gave him a direction at least though following the road in his current condition was difficult, but he needed to put some distance between himself and Colmere lest the villagers decide to come looking for him. He doubted Hizo was the type of man to take such a defeat lying down. Come the morning Thanquil would take himself off the path a ways, find a tree to rest under and pray to Volmar that no wild animals mistook him for an easy meal.

  It was at times like this he missed Jezzet the most and not just for the protection she provided. The Blademaster could most likely have fought her way out of the small village though, he had to admit, the body count would have been a lot higher. He missed Jezzet for the company. She made him smile and brought out the best in him and, Thanquil liked to think, he returned the boon. Unfortunately Jezzet had a small issue with Thanquil’s profession. It wasn’t that she disagreed with the hunting of witches and heretics, or even to the occasional burning of said heretics. Jezzet disagreed with the entire notion of Thanquil having to report to the Inquisition. She mistrusted the organisation since their exposure and subsequent purging of Inquisitor Heron but, even more than that, she disagreed with their treatment of Thanquil afterwards.

  Upon learning of Inquisitor Heron’s heresy Thanquil had not reported to the council of Inquisitors but had instead taken matters into his own hands and dispensed his own, rather fatal, justice. The council had then punished him. They had decreed he would never advance beyond the rank of Arbiter and they had planned to send him somewhere he could never cause trouble again. That was until the God-Emperor had stepped in. The mortal form of Volmar reborn, Emperor Francis had requested Thanquil be sent to the Dragon Empire on matters of his own discretion. The council of Inquisitors could hardly decline their own God’s request but had allowed that Thanquil, while working for the God-Emperor, also carry out his normal duties as an Arbiter, chief among them; reporting to the council.

  The resulting political power play between the council and the God-Emperor had left Thanquil in a somewhat untenable position. He was required to report to, and take orders from both parties and owed allegiance to both. While Thanquil himself accepted the situation as an annoyance but ultimately out of his control, Jezzet did no
t. The arguments since then had, at times, become heated and on one occasion violent. That occasion had seen Thanquil knocked firmly on his arse and forced to submit but then he expected no less from fighting with a Blademaster, even when she wasn’t wielding a blade.

  So it was with thoughts of Jezzet Vel’urn and the first rays of the rising sun peeking out through the giant-leafed trees Thanquil wandered off the beaten path and into the forest. He tried his best to ignore the hooting of the nearby monkeys, hoping and praying that none in this region were large enough or bold enough to provide him any real threat. He also hoped that none of the giant cats prowled this area of the forest as any one would be more than a match for him in his current state and many of them hunted in packs.

  He trudged across the forest floor, tripping on fallen branches more than once but soldiering on. Not for the first time in his life Thanquil knew he would already be unconscious if not for the sleepless charm still attached to his skin. He tripped again and stumbled into one of the slim trees that stretched up high in the forest canopy. The tree wobbled with his weight and he heard a rustle from above, looking up just in time to see something heavy and hard hit the ground a foot to his left. The near miss shocked him back into focus and upon closer inspection he could see it was one of the hairy fruits that grew on many of the trees. He made a mental note to find a tree to sleep under that did not produce such fruit and then made a second mental note to remember the first just in case.

  He eventually stopped underneath a giant of a tree with a trunk that would easily take ten men to encircle. The roots sunk into the earth were beyond massive and, looking up, Thanquil could see it was more or less straight right up into the canopy where it branched off in every direction shading the nearby area with its leaves.

  Thanquil sunk down between two of the roots and wrapped his Arbiter coat around him. The air was warm and moist and he would no doubt wake even more sweaty than he was now but the leather would provide him some protection from the biting flies that preyed on any who were fool enough to sleep outside without a net. With a weary hand he reached down and peeled the sleepless charm from his flesh, taking more than a few hairs with it as it went. No sooner was he free from the effects he faded into the blackness behind his eyes.