Mortal gods, p.51
Mortal Gods, page 51
“The Knight-Commander will hear of this!” Warren shouted, but it fell on deaf ears. “He still has the letter.” He said in a panic.
“He doesn’t.” Arianna said, and patted her pocket. As Avari was lead from the market place and the murmur of voices returned. Warren breathed a relieved sigh and smiled gently. “The boy is resourceful. I will try free him before nightfall but if not, you must bare this burden on you own, Arianna.”
“You have to get him released Warren, Cawder will be ruthless.”
“I know child,” Preacher Warren replied cautiously, “just be sure you are ready by nightfall.”
Arianna nodded and jogged off into the crowded market place, swallowed by the noise and bluster. The absence of the beating sun was a welcome relief to Arianna, a girl of fair complexion. However, its mercy had come at the cost of relinquishing herself to the prying eyes of the bustling tavern that seemed never to catch its eyes rest.
The Beer Hall was in a quiet quarter of Qalm, where the extravagance of the wealthy was replaced by more modest workers. There were smiths and forges, tailors, fishermen. It was where the real people of the city lived, not those of a wealthy entitlement.
“Hoi girl!” The barman called from behind two massive tankards of ale, perched on the bar. Arianna braved the rotten stench of bad breath and foul body odours, and wandered through the patrons who sat at the tables dotted around the floor. She hated this part. She felt explosed, like a raw nerve just being poked. It was as though she was a piece of meat, stripped bare to be slobbered over by greasy men with menace in their eyes and vulgar thoughts in their dim witted minds.
“Yes?” Arianna said approaching the bar, making sure to keep a safe distance from the toxic breath that was to be spat her way.
“Rent!” The barman spat, “By my reckonin’ you owe four silver pieces for the last three nights!”
“Of course,” Arianna said batting a small smile at him. She felt dirty even speaking with the slimy barman and was grateful that it was almost certainly her last. “I’ll just settle with Mildred upstairs.”
Mildred was the innkeeper who ran the affairs of The Beer Hall and inn, but she was no more pleasant than the man before Arianna.
“Make sure you do that, or I’ll be findin’ some other way of you repayin’ that debt!” He shouted sleazily, and the drunken men of the bar cheered his sentiment. Arianna rushed up the stairs clawing at her skin as though she tried to wash their filth off herself. She reached the top of the stairs that bent around themselves a few times, and she was confronted with an older woman, but it wasn’t Mildred.
“Tough day, sweetheart?” The woman said with a sympathetic eye. She had hair kissed by fire, interlocked with strands of grey and penetrating deep green eyes like two emeralds. Her gown was long to her ankles, made of the finest silks, but it wasn’t like the others in Qalm. Where the locals were extravagant, she had a certain under statement about her simple, but elegant, garment of dark red silks.
“Something like that.” She replied looking halfway down the steps once more.
“Don’t worry dear, they wouldn’t dare.”
“I know… It’s just hard to believe this is Hyule. King Khalan is supposed to be fair and noble.” Arianna said shaking her head.
“The King is no more a man than your friend,” The woman said chirpily, “He is no more a King than I am a Queen. Have a nice day.”
Arianna watched as she wandered past her and carefully descended the stairs before disappearing from view. As she rubbed her vibrant green eyes, she turned the small key that locked the door to the small room she and Avari had shared since they arrived in Qualm. It was dank, poorly decorated with tattered cloth draped over the windows that was feeble in its attempts to thwart the sunlight from spilling into the room. The shabby floorboards barely dampened the noise from the bar down stairs and every step sounded like a crashing thunder strike. On the wall adjacent the bed, a dusty wall length mirror clung so lazily to the foundations, that the nails that held it vertical, were inches off the dirty wall.
Arianna flung herself down upon the solid bed, and closed her eyes tightly. Her mind drifted back to how life was before all this, but her thoughts were constantly interrupted by the concise nagging of curiosity that niggled away in her trouser pocket. She pulled the sealed letter out and laid it down in the bed next to her, all the while disobeying her incessant need to read its contents. But for a girl who thrived on her curiosity, just like back in Mr Lemuer’s tavern listening to the traveller’s tales of pirates and washed up smugglers, its lure was too great.
She gave in. Whipping it up from the bed, Arianna was a moments grace from tearing open the seal when the noise, or lack thereof caught her ear. From the time she and Avari had squatted in this wretched inn, there was never a moment that she could recall the bar being anything other than a shambolic ramble of noise. But right now there was nothing, not a murmur of archaic misogyny, or even the slamming of the metal tankards pounding the frayed wooden tables. Arianna put the letter back on the bed and slowly got up. Instantly, the subdued quiet made her weary of the creaky floorboards beneath her feet, each and every transference of weight akin to a war hammer dismantling the foundations. Slowly, she slipped the handle of the door down and opened it just a crack. Her heart leap as the woman from before was just metres from the door, apparently ready to knock.
“If you should have anything of importance, now would be the time to hide it well, or discard it.” She said gently. Arianna was caught in her gaze, but the old woman backed away to the door across the hallway.
“Did Preacher –” But Arianna was silenced by the lady raising her hand gently to her lips. Arianna shut the door again tightly and stared long at the letter that still sat undisturbed on the bed. Her mind was awash with anxiety of the unknown, but also feverish delight that the moment to read the letter had come so soon. She bound across the room and sat back on the bed in a panic. Three loud and aggressive thuds on the door startled her. She panicked, looking around frantically for a place to hide the letter, but then caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She quickly bound across the room towards it and slipped the letter behind her reflection, onto the nails that protruded just slightly from the wall. The door was rattled again, three more times, even more aggressively. Arianna pushed the mirror back as far as she could, but it sagged forward to its original position, stubborn at her plea to conceal. But there was no time to perfect its concealment.
She drew a long deep breath before she crossed the room and opened the door.
“Out!” The fearsome man ordered. It was a knight of the Kalutha, wearing a silver breastplate and ring mail with the Eternal Tree of the Faith crafted into its breast. Her heart raced feverishly and her forehead was met with a sheen of sweat. The knight dragged Arianna from the room into the hallway where three more knights stood, each taller and more intimidating than the last. He grunted and pushed her towards the three before stepping back into her room.
“Does Preacher Wa –.”
“Shut up!” The knight barked, “Take her downstairs.” Arianna barely had time to protest when she was being forcefully pushed down the stairs. However, this time it was different. Where there had been drunken chatter degrading women, there was now stony silence. Where the prying eyes that made her uncomfortable in her own skin once sat, there was now just one set that set her skin ablaze. They were piercing blue eyes of a man, who looked at Arianna differently from all the other men who frequented The Beer Hall.
“Arianna,” The crisp voice said invitingly, “Please, take a seat.” Arianna looked around the empty tavern nervously, eyeing the broke tables and chairs splattered across the floor.
“Please, forgive the mess… Some of the less understanding patrons had questions of their eviction.” The man said. He too wore a silver breast plate and ring mail, with the Eternal Tree of the Kalutha etched on the front, only this man seemed different. The purple velvet cape that dropped from his shoulders was of velvet and the hilt of his sword poker just above the table top he sat at.
“You know who we are?” The man asked calmly. Arianna could here the upturning of the furniture in her room and the smashing of the brittle cabinets that housed what little possessions she and Avari had, but so far, the shattering of glass had not rang out. She nodded slightly, feeling the vacant moisture in her throat hindering her words.
“I am Knight-Commander Krone.” He said beckoning Arianna forward to the chair opposite him at the table. She wandered forth gingerly, avoiding the splinters that littered the floor boards beneath her feet and sat at the table. The smell of stale ale that radiated from the wood turned her stomach in knots, making her nerves jangle ever more so.
“Do you know why we are here?” The Knight-Commander asked. Arianna shook her head fearing her cracking voice may give hints to the concealed letter.
“Ah… silence,” Krone said almost expectantly, “It is the understanding of the Faith that some documents have fallen into your possession. Is this true?”
“No.” Arianna said shortly.
“Do you mean to say my Faith is dishonest?” Krone said calmly, turning a soft eye around the other Knights in the tavern. Even the very octane of the Knight-Commanders voice threatened and intimidated Arianna, but she concealed it behind what bravery she could muster.
“N..No.” Arianna stammered unconvincingly.
“Should the document be found in your…” Krone looked around the tavern disapprovingly before finishing, “Humble abode, the consequences will be severe, my dear. Unless you volunteer them to me now.”
“I don’t know what documents you mean.” Arianna said, forcing the words through the spiralling fear that threatened to grip her.
“Is that so…” Krone waved a gentle hand at the two knights who flanked him and they both made for the stairs to Arianna’s room. “Word passes my ear of your companions arrest in the market square earlier, crying shame.” Krone said probingly.
“He disrespected the Lord of Qualm, his punishment will be just sir.” The words stained Arianna’s throat as she fought them to leave her mouth.
“Come now girl, I bare no loyalty to Hyule or its Lords no matter how noble or idiotic they appear. I merely have the displeasure of sharing the same piece of land.”
“The Lord is an egomaniac with the simple mind of a child,” Arianna blurted out before reconciling with her mind, “sir.”
“That he does.” Krone said, laughing. “Prying eyes tell me Preacher Warren has taken quite the shine to you and your incarcerated friend.”
“Oh?” Arianna said guarding her thoughts carefully.
“Yes, as a matter of fact I do not believe we would be having this conversation had it not been for your special relationship.” Knight-Commander Krone said. He gently dusted off his daunting gauntlets and stared intently with his suspicious blue eyes. “Tell me something, why does a preacher of the Faith, a twenty year veteran in such a lofty position, keep two younglings, two strangers so fresh to our cause from the Calling?” Krone waited patiently for the flapping Arianna to reply, but it was not forth coming. She could feel the sheer presence of the Knight-Commander intimidate her so much that she could barely muster a coherent thought to prolong her origin. “Unless of course, they were not strangers at all…?”
Arianna knew the Knight-Commander was fishing, she knew she only had to hold it together to survive the course. “I.. em –” The sound of a loud crash of shattering glass peppering the wooden floor boards cut Arianna off and made her head spin on a swivel.
“You were saying?” Krone said leaning forward on the ale stained table. Arianna managed, only just, to drag her gaze from the stairway but her gut tightened and she contemplated running. The door was still sitting slightly ajar, letting in a rush of fresh air that now tasted like freedom to the young girl. She adjusted herself in the seat “My brother and I were sheltered in life in Oraan. Preacher Warren showed us much mercy as we were not ready, but we were both due to commence the Calling today.” Arianna said holding her nerve, barely.
“Ah yes, I see,” Krone said, but before he could elaborate the commanding thud of solid greaves on wooden floor were slamming downstairs. The frenzy that whirled in Arianna’s gut was as fierce as it was absolute, she felt trapped, and there was nothing she could do to escape now, it was too late.
“Well?” Knight-Commander Krone asked. Arianna’s legs tightened in preparation to propel her from her perch, but she stalled for just a moment.
“No sign of the documents Knight-Commander.” The Knight replied. The relief washed over Arianna like an ocean of water cleansing a flame that threatened to burn wildly.
“Very well,” Krone said rising from the table. The Captain rushed back up stairs and was quickly followed back down by four knights, each with a mop of sweat across their brows at the exertions. The Knight-Commander stalked towards the door with the air of superiority reigning out over the whole tavern before turning back to Arianna. “Do stay in the city my dear, I would very much like to hear more about you and your brother’s special relationship with Preacher Warren.” He said with a smile that washed Arianna with an uneasy tension. “Oh and speaking of your brother, I will barter his safe return. Preacher Warren is a good man, but this Lord will better compromise with me.”
“Thank you Sir.” Arianna said unconvincingly. She didn’t like the connotations that were spilled all over the Knight-Commanders words, but she felt she knew for certain, Avari was better to be left in a cell than in Knight-Commander Krone’s company. The door clicked shut once more and Arianna breathed so deeply she felt her lungs could see her take off from her chair. From behind, and just under the stair case that lead to her room, the barman slithered out from a door which leads to a small room that housed barrels of ale.
“What you bringin’ to my establishment girl!” The man barked at her.
“Oh shut up!” Arianna snapped.
“Yes, do shut up.” The woman in the red silk dress called as she descended the stairs. Arianna climbed to her feet and wandered closer to see the woman from before who had warned her at her door.
“Who are you?” Arianna asked.
“Come.” The woman said turning towards Arianna’s room. The young girl followed her gingerly, and before long was greeted by the desecration of the dank room that she and Avari shared. Arianna bound across the debris on the floor and immediately made for the mirror. It had been smashed indeed but the nails that clung onto the clasps at the top still hung. Three quarters of the mirror was shattered across the floor, but the top portion had stabbed into the shabby wall and caught the letter for King Khalan III before it fell. Arianna looked at it in disbelief, and contemplated just how close she came to seeing the Knight-Commander’s ‘consequences.’
“Very fortunate.” The woman said from the doorway.
“Who are you?” Arianna repeated, before removing the sleeve of paper from its sharpened hiding place.
“A friend of the Preacher, I’ve watched over you at his behest for the last days.” She said.
“Why?” Arianna asked, but the woman waved her hand at the desolation of her room. Arianna tucked the letter inside her britches pocket safely and looked around the room once more, but she knew there was nothing worth taking.
“I need to see the Preacher before I leave, tell him what’s happened.” Arianna said.
“No need, I will see to it, you should leave immediately,” The old woman said, “come I will see you off safely.”
Arianna was weary but the woman had given her little reason to distrust her thus far. She hauled up a brown sack that was home to her trusted bow and quiver of arrows and descended the stairs back into a cauldron of noise and bluster from the bewildered patrons, who had dithered back to their usual places in the absence of the knights. But they now looked at Arianna, not in a vulgar lust, but in cautious suspicion. The sunlight had hardly dimmed as they both crossed the threshold into the fresh air of Qualm, away from the ale covered wasters. “Who are you?” Arianna said for the third time.
“I am humble servant of the realm, Lelith Bays is my name.” She replied earnestly. They pushed through the tight streets, up a flight of stone steps with chips and cracks and into the marketplace again. The hustle was in full flow, the noise almost deafening to a scream. It was packed, so wading through the lines of people, all vying for bargains was a task that took time.
“Why are you helping me?” Arianna asked. They walked shoulder to shoulder, but Lelith moved much too slowly for Arianna. Her red silk gown fluttered just behind her castling a long shadow.
“The document you have,” Lelith began, speaking in a low hushed voice that made Arianna lean in to hear better because of the howling market stall owners flogging their wares, “has its content passed your eyes?”
Arianna brushed her hand against the folded paper in her pocket, feeling the thick, solid sigil of Hyule which was yet to reveal the secrets of within. “No.”
“See to it that you read it and discard it when you are clear of the city limits, my dear. This Knight-Commander has yet seen his curiosities over you dissipate.” Lelith warned. The thought of Knight-Commander Krone revisiting the previous interrogation sent a cold chill down her spine. The man frightened her more than she would ever care to admit of any other person.
“Will you travel with me?”
“Oh no my dear, I have duties to attend here.” Lelith replied earnestly. The pair passed through the narrow lane where the bakers and armour smiths fought a never ending war over who could pollute the air more. Fresh bread, pastries versus the untamed, volatile smell of smouldering metal. It had only been a matter of weeks Arianna had spent in Qualm, but the vibrancy of the market square was something she would miss. So accustomed to the quiet and faint noises of Redbridge’s own market stalls, Qualm was a thriving metropolis of people and wares that the young girl felt more attuned to.
The lavish fountain in the centre of the market was in full flourishing flow, the intricate wells of water that spat through the air decoration for the immortalisation of the man Arianna had grown to hate, especially over the last hours. In solid stone, standing on a perch that overlooked the shimmering, reflective pool of sapphire, Lord Bryce Cawder even looked like a bastard in stone. The carvings of the fat Lord bore the same smug and superior look that he wore as a badge of honour in daily life. As Arianna wandered past it, her eye was taken in just briefly by the waters reflective beauty and she slowed her march to look closer. There were silver and copper coins at the bottom of the pool, but no gold. Nobody was foolish enough to discard gold into a fountain, not even for the favour of this vain Lord.
