Adversaries Together

by Daniel Casey

“I’ll get him.” Roth said solemnly.

  As he walked away, Declan looked around at the bodies. “Well, we’ve got work ahead of us.”

  Goshen set him down on the edge of the pool, “When haven’t we lately?”

  Declan chuckled a bit, and then grimaced, “So, any of you a healer?” Everyone looked at him, then each other with blank faces. They burst out into laughter.

  Wynne shook his head and gestured for Fery and Jena to come over to where Declan was, “I think this is going to be my job.” He pointed at Kira, “Put that stuff down and run up to the great room. Grab my red leather pack.”

  “Gladly,” Kira said and disappeared.

  Goshen stood staring into the woods and over the glen at the bodies of the soldiers, “These were recruits. Green still.”

  Jena spat out a huge clot of blood, “Lucky for us.”

  “That’s all it ever is.” Goshen mumbled as he watched Roth disappear into the woods.

  Roth took a few steps into the forest and listened. He didn’t hear anything out of the ordinary; slowly he made his way to where he and Jena had been hiding out. He could tell Colm had been there but he was gone now. Looking around Roth called out in the Athingani cant. No response. He called out again and heard a distant reply. Roth walked towards the voice, which lead him out of the forest and back into the glen only nearer where the road began.

  As he stepped out in to the glen, he saw Colm standing with his back to him holding one of the soldier’s pole arms. Coming closer Roth could see the grass beneath him had been matted down; there were spots of blood as well. When he reach Colm, he put a hand on the boy’s shoulder but Colm didn’t look at him. Rather, Colm lowered the pole arm and pointed at Asa sitting with his back against a stone glaring at the boy.

  “Little fucker,” Asa grumbled, “Shattered something in my knee.” He hadn’t removed the throwing knife from his shoulder and it was clear was losing quite a lot of blood. Asa had taken the blade from his hand and wrapped a cloth around it. He held his hand curled to his chest, the back of his hand trying to put some pressure on his shoulder wound. Asa was draining of color but his eyes burned with anger.

  Roth came closer to Asa, knelt and looked him in the eye, “You killed Reg.”

  “Who?” Asa sneered, “Oh, the runt’s father? Yeah, I killed him. You told him how to lame me when you were talking that gibberish before, didn’t you?” He looked passed Roth and yelled at Colm, “I set your house aflame as well. You’ve nothing now, you shit.”

  “He has me.” Roth said calmly.

  “One Athingani bastard takes in another. Too perfect.” Asa’s eyes fluttered and he swallowed hard.

  “Why did you come after me?”

  “Because I wanted to beat you.” Asa’s eyes opened wide as he did nothing to hide his contempt.

  “All this because you wanted to beat me? That’s senseless. You don’t even know me.”

  The shadows were long now as the sun had nearly disappeared over the hills. Dusk was nearly on them and the air was getting cooler. Roth watch Asa shudder then let out a manic desperate burst of laughter, “You know, you’re right. I don’t even know your name.”

  “You went through all this to get revenge on a nameless man.” Roth shook his head.

  “Don’t get philosophical with me, rover.” Asa squirmed trying to raise himself up. Colm took a step forward and leaned the point of the spear into Asa’s shoulder wound. Asa cried out and cursed Colm; Roth looked back and waved the boy off.

  “You have no idea what I could’ve had if it not been for you.” He growled, let his head fall back on the stone, and closed his eyes.

  “Why don’t you tell me?” Roth said. Asa rolled his head forward and slowly opened his eyes, glaring at Roth.

  “What makes you think I’d do that?”

  “Well, Colm here is pretty quiet but I’m rather certain he’d love to keep you hurting well into the night.” Colm lowered the pole arm again, this time he sliced Asa’s thigh still as mute as ever. This time Roth didn’t stop him.

  Asa clenched his jaw and grabbed the spear with is bloodied hand throwing it aside. Colm let it be swatted away, then casually drew it back and was about to needle Asa again when Roth raised his hand.

  “See what I mean?”

  “Alright,” Asa spoke through his grit teeth, “But first, you tell me who you are.”

  Roth’s face was impassive, “I am Avery Roth, the last Caretaker for the Athingani.”

  “A Caretaker?” Asa muttered, “That makes no sense. There aren’t any Caretakers any longer.”

  Roth shrugged lifting Colm’s spear tip and guided it to Asa’s chest, “Now you.”

  The Cathedral of Sulecin, 34th of Mabon

  The courtyard’s white gravel paths crisscrossed regularly dividing the whole area into triangle. Low hedges girded the paths and kept the grass of the triangles free of footfall. There wasn’t a single tree in the courtyard and the sun’s glare off the Grand Cathedral threw a further blinding light upon it. Pallas walk slowly, his back the Cathedral. Occasionally, he stopped to gaze into shadows of the surrounding portico.

  With the sky void of cloud the high sun bathed everything in an unrelenting light. Pallas’s black cassock and biretta drew heat and the cool autumnal wind was just enough to mitigate it. Still, Pallas found himself wiping his hands on this red silken maniple to keep them from getting clammy. As he walked the paths, his mind wandered. He had received Cochrane’s last update perhaps a week ago. Dated on Mabon Day and telling him he had arrived in Elvos, the information proved of little worth. He knew he wasn’t going to be getting regular reports but this one tidbit had whetted his appetite. Cochrane had to have reached Lappala by now, but he wouldn’t be able to send off any information until he got to Wick, Dystos, or Anhra. By then, Pallas thought, the information should come fast and regular. But would it be soon enough? He wouldn’t know Cochrane’s status until Winterfinding at the earliest and that was quite unlikely.

  Bloodtangle’s letter had arrived earlier that morning stating they had just left Bandra for Wick. Everything was ridiculously behind schedule, and Sinclar was already moving faster than Pallas had anticipated. He stopped and stood still as he looked upon the Cathedral. Squinting he tried to make out if anyone was inside attending to the altar. Unfortunately, the only thing that came of it was a smear of cloud-like red blurs before his eyes. The morning’s sermon had hinted at Sinclar’s progress. Such an emphatic rejoinder on the infallibility of the Patriarch may have seemed innocuous to the congregants but held a clear message for those within the Vicegerent’s circle.

  Sinclar was conveying he now had enough chapels under his sway that if a conclave were announced, he would win. It meant that his scheme was well into its third stage awaiting the advent of a crisis. That crisis would be a slow burn—the death of an alm at the hands of mercenaries hired by Essia, an alm that is revealed to have been a highborn of Spires—but it would be enough. The ancient Patriarch Arius would be blindsided, the hawks of the Spires would see their chance, and Sinclar would use the family tragedy to rally the faithful to him. Sinclar as Patriarch would guarantee decades of blood. Pallas shook his head, it couldn’t be allowed.

  He resumed his stroll around the courtyard. No word from his Rikonenese contacts and Bloodtangle had said nothing of the alm. Pallas bit his lip and fidgeted with the maniple. Just then, a shadow moved up alongside him.

  “Once again I catch you deep in thought.” Vander was his usual saccharine self. Pallas snapped his head to the side looking at Vander as though he were a stranger. His face soften almost immediately and a slight smile crept onto his face.

  “It seems that you have seen better days, brother.” Vander’s right eye was a sickening mauve and his cheek peppered with ghastly greens and yellows, his upper lip was split, and although the collar of his alb rode high on his neck there were hints of bruises there as well.

  Vander frown a bit, “Yes, well, unfortunately I fell prey to some ru
ffians who hid themselves among the pilgrims I was ministering to.”

  He was obviously lying but Pallas had no interest in pursuing the point, “Oh, I didn’t realize you were active among the pilgrims? In fact, I thought most of your time was spent revising the breviary.”

  Vander didn’t rise to the bait but was more curt than usual, “Part of that mission is the dispersal of our texts to the faithful.”

  Pallas nodded, “Of course, forgive my ignorance. I take it that the paladins have seen to the thieves.”

  “Yes,” Vander said distant, “It’s been taken care of.” As the two came up to the Cathedral, they fell silent as friars and alms passed shepherding children along to the academies beyond the courtyard. Once they had passed, the two turned to follow a pathway back into the courtyard.

  “Speaking of paladins,” Vander continued, “We have decided to release the information about the paladin over the next few days.”

  Pallas was surprised, “How exactly?”

  “The justiciars in Bandra have been longing for a higher profile; the Vicegerent has decided to grant it to them.”

  “By revealing how they allowed a Hopeless to be stolen away?”

  “By letting the faithful know how well the Bandrians applied the Cathedral’s law, and then how a trusted paladin of the highest esteem was really a heretic and responsible in the disappearance if not the death of an alm on her first mission.”

  Pallas smirked, “Convenient.”

  “I think you’ll hear in the coming days that it is decidedly inconvenient for many in the higher echelons.”

  “Certainly not our dear Vicegerent.”

  “Oh, he is definitely aggrieved to have been betrayed, but he will take appropriate steps to purge the paladins of any further heresy.”

  “A tall order.”

  “He has the utmost confidence in Canon Stilbon to conduct a thorough investigation and, if he deems it necessary, the assumption of its leadership.”

  Pallas mulled this over, “Hmm, seems as though that from now until Imbolc much of the day to day of our lives will be in upheaval.”

  “Given your days are spent in quiet contemplation, wouldn’t nearly any event be an upheaval?” Vander’s grinned.

  Pallas stopped, turned to face Vander, and spoke softly, “Your new coloring does make you appear sinister. Perhaps you should try to make the most of it before your true color returns.” With that, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the portico.

  The Ternary Headwaters, 35th of Mabon

  They had been riding since early evening the day before, nearly from the moment Roth had returned to the group with Colm by his side. The boy had lead them to Silvincian camp where they had found the horses Lo and Kia, which the troop must have stolen from Reg, and pilfered the remaining supplies. They had left the bodies where they had fallen and set the rest of the encampment aflame. Riding off in the early evening, eight bodies on five horses. Fery shared a saddle with Declan and Kira with Goshen. Only Colm looked back as he rode on Lo with Roth, silently praying for the fire to consume the corpses.

  Wynne had done a good job of stitching up Fery, setting Jena’s nose, and dressing Declan’s wound. However, all three needed more rest than what Roth was willing to afford them. Fortunately, the group’s arrival at the headwaters of the Elmander, Sorrent, and Falkstone meant they could be properly seen to by the healers at the way station, which was roughly ten leagues from Havan. The headwaters were a draw for thousands of people from all the realms of Syr Nebra so there were hundreds of pavilions at the way station but no large permanent structures. Pilgrims from the south, from the Lakes, and the Spires came for the hot spring baths; the Cathedral’s true believers came to hear the teachings of and see the lifestyles of the Coventar monks; and swarms of minor merchants and less than reputable traders lingered hoping to get their assets to the west and north or hire out their barges.

  Jena knew the headwaters well and as they approached the encampment, she moved to take the lead in their tiny caravan. The group didn’t look nearly as motley as many others around them but they didn’t quite blend in. Jena made sure that they rode along the less savory paths avoiding the parishes of the Cathedral and the views of the wealthy pilgrims who always seemed to draw the Spires as their guard. The group came to a long grey canvas pavilion that even among all other innocuous tents looked unassuming. Jena jumped down from her horse and tossed the reins up towards Roth who had come up alongside her.

  “Here?” he asked.

  “As good as any,” Jena said as she tossed the canvas slit aside and entered.

  “Are we dismounting?” Goshen asked behind Roth.

  “Not just yet, Jena is seeing to it.”

  “It’s gonna start raining soon.” Declan said as he looked around the way station.

  “Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve spent the night in the mud.” Wynne said moving up to Roth.

  “Aye,” Declan grunted with a bit of an edge as he watched Wynne pass him up. He looked over his shoulder at Fery, “Not too fond of me, is he.”

  “He’s angrier with him,” Fery nodded towards Roth, “than you.”

  “Huh.”

  Fery gave Declan a thin grin, “He still doesn’t quite like you yet though.” Declan smiled and winked at her.

  Wynne pulled up to Roth and smiled at Colm in his lap, “We need to rest.”

  “I know.” Roth didn’t look at him but continued to stare at the slit in the canvas waiting for Jena to re-emerge.

  “We need to get them to proper healers.” Wynne pressed.

  “I know that.” Roth nodded and Colm looked up at him.

  “We need to talk.” Impatient, Wynne muttered as he tried to peer into the pavilion.

  Roth turned and gave Wynne a pleading look, “I am aware of all of these things.”

  Jena emerged and gave a bit of a start at how close Roth and Wynne were to the entrance, “Damn, back off a bit.”

  “And?” Roth asked.

  “Three down, two over, we have a yurt.”

  “The horses?”

  Jena pointed down the lane, “Stables.”

  Roth looked at Wynne, “We rest; we heal; we talk.” He tossed backed Jena’s reins, and then dismounted. He lifted Colm off Lo and held him on his shoulder while giving Wynne the reins. Roth turned and walked with purpose in the direction that Jena had said the yurt was.

  “Guess that means we tend to the horses.” Wynne said.

  Jena didn’t say anything as she watched Roth meld into the crowd. She followed his progress by seeing Colm’s head just above everyone else’s. She sighed, “Yeah, it looks like it.”

  The yurt had a diameter of roughly twelve feet. It would have been generous for just one alone or even for a couple, but the eight of them in it gave an air of poverty to everything. A brazier in the center kept the interior warm as the light drizzle outside sounded fiercer than it was as it struck the treated canvas roof. When Roth entered with Colm, both were soaked to the bone each carrying a bundle that they clenched to their chests. They stood at the entrance and tried to shake themselves dry. Roth pulled the shroud over Colm’s bundle off and pointed toward Wynne across the room.

  “What’s this then?” Colm handed the bundle over to Wynne.

  “Better bedding, new clothes.” Roth tossed his bundle to Goshen on the other side of the room. He looked at the armor that the paladin had shed, “We’ll need to sell that too.” Goshen nodded.

  “It’s warm enough in here, but this place is filthy.” Fery muttered.

  Jena was sprawled behind Fery with her boots and leathers off, “Welcome to the world, princess.”

  Fery turned frowning, “Don’t call me that.” Jena just smirked.

  “What about him?” Roth gestured to Declan.

  “Healers apparently got to him well in time to avoid infection.” Wynne replied, “But he needs to stay put for at least a couple of weeks.”

  Roth nodded as he shed his cloak and boots, “He�
�s asleep?”

  Wynne looked at Declan, “They gave him some laudanum and he’s been out for a while now.”

  “The rest?”

  “We’re fine,” Jena growled, “Fery’ll have a lovely scar and I’m just going to look like a beaten mule for at least a month.”

  “Somehow it makes you look better.” Fery said and Jena glared at her, “No, I mean, the coloring around your eyes.” Jena just stared. “You didn’t look bad before…it’s just that…it kinda looks like make-up.” Fery was fluster and quite red.

  Kira sighed, “She didn’t mean anything.”

  “I know what she meant,” Jena said. She gave Fery an icy stare, and then winked.

  “We’re lucky it wasn’t worse.” Roth sat near the brazier.

  Kira handed him a plate of naan, “What now?”

  “We’ve been needing to talk about that for some time now.” Wynne said.

  Goshen pushed the armor he had shed out of the way to get a better view of the others, “There are rather simple facts. I can’t go back to the Cathedral after what happened in Bandra.”

  “I’ll need to steer clear of there as well for a while.” Jena chimed in.

  “And from what the justiciars told me at my trial,” Goshen continued looking at Kira, “You’re considered dead.”

  “So showing up at my chapel…”

  “…would only cause problems for everyone.” Roth finished her thought. He rubbed his eyes and gazed into the fire. There was a moment where it seemed that Roth let down his guard and looked haggard, if not exhausted. Everyone was quiet as the rain pelted the roof and the brazier crackled.

  “I’ve nowhere to go.” Colm spoke up, his voice deadpan.

  Roth turned to the boy sitting next to him, “You’re coming with me. We’re going north.”

  “North to where?” Kira demanded.

  Roth was silent. Before Kira could say anything, Declan roused. He rolled over on his side and his eyes fluttered open. Wynne turned and put his hand on Declan’s shoulder, “You don’t need to get up.”