A Dead God's Tear (The Netherwalker Trilogy) (18 page)

Put on the spot as he was, he didn't have much time to think of anything. His instincts were in flight or fight mode; he chose the former. "Well, I've no idea what you are talking about. Now if you will exc
use me, I have to go to visit my father. Please let yourself out." He shuffled past the Sheriff, anxious to just get out of the house.

He had just reached the door when Gary's strong hand grabbed his arm, spinning him around so fast that he momentarily los
t his balance. The sheriff had his face so close Marcius could count the individual graying strands on the man's blonde beard, the minute veins in the whites of the eye. "I know what you are Marcius, and if it wasn't for the sole reason that I don't have a single actual crime to hold against you, I would have you clapped in the dungeon. I would suggest once you have sorted out matters here, that you make yourself very, very scarce in this town. Trust me, I would love to find some chain bracelets to match the robes you lack, and I'm sure if I dug around enough, I would find reason to do so. Even if I have to say you stole an apple from some street vendor, by the Gods I'll find something!" The grim set of his face and the tone of voice left very little to imagination as to what the sheriff truly meant. And the sheriff, at the very least, was a man of his word.

Marcius shirked off the arm, a little more confident now that he knew that Jared's father had nothing tangible on him, and walked out the door before his
legs betrayed how scared he really was. Once he was free of the house, the full weight of his problems came rushing back to the surface.

He looked back at what was most likely
his
house now, in both name and title. A place that had been called home for twenty years. The only thing he could wonder was what exactly did he do to deserve what had happened the last two days. First Antaigne and now this?

With a defeated sigh, he began the long, lonely walk to the Healer's Guild building, which was a distance aw
ay. Marcius didn’t feel the urge to hail a carriage. He wanted to be alone, and he dreaded what he would see concerning his father.

He inwardly longed to ride Ruby, but the horse had disappeared during the attack on Antaigne's. Marcius had no idea where Ru
by was or even if the horse was still alive. Another loss in his life that had been perfect only two days before.

He took solace that at least he still had his familiar, a friend that was his private council, a bastion in the storm that had engulfed his li
fe. He could still feel Faerril in the back of his head, the emphatic link told him the familiar was now sleeping peacefully and felt much better now. Marcius took some comfort in that fact. At least his familiar was content.

A drop of water landed on his
cheek. Looking up, he could see the dark clouds gathering, as if the sky itself reflected Marcius's sorrow.

Looked like rain.

❧
　❧　❧

A gentle drizzle fell about Rhensford, lightly tapping on the streets and ushering the wiser residents into hiding, because any person who has lived near the coast for significant period of time would recognize the wolf hiding among the sheep. The skies held that tension that told you that a big storm was about to hit, the atmosphere of a predator about to strike. Perhaps it was the cold, foreboding breeze, or maybe it was the gray, oppressive hue the normally clear blue sea had taken. But whatever the cause, nobody in their right mind was outside.

Well, almost nobody. Jared Garalan, a man whose state of mind was constantly in question, walked drunkenly through the now mostly empty streets, wobbling a bit here and there as the wind picked up and transformed
the gentle drizzle to a stinging mist.

Jared enjoyed walking outside during the periodic storms that would occasionally hit. He found it liberating to have almost complete reign over the usually busy and clustered port town. The feeling of the rain beatin
g down on him was pleasurable as well, as if he was somehow being purged of his worries and sins. Letting it run down his face, off his hair, soaking his body; it gave him time alone with his thoughts, dreams, and troubles. However, this was the first time he had done it drunk, and more importantly, with company.

"Can you hurry up?" A voice intoned behind him, broken up from the gusts of wind that forced Jared and his companion to take shelter momentarily under an overhang in a nearby alley. "I would like t
o get out of this dreadful rain!"

Jared rolled his eyes. Somehow, in his drunken stupor, he had thought perhaps it would be a good idea to seek out and give a brief overview to the Mage of what transpired at the dwarf's hideout, that way he could get Alici
a and Marcius to talk it over under safe conditions. He intended to take her to the Healer's Guild building. No doubt Marcius wouldn't expect to see her there when he went to check on his familiar, giving him time to use the initial shock as a buffer between the two.

He just hoped that it would work, as angry as his friend was, he didn't want the apprentice to do something he would regret later. He just figured they would encounter each other eventually, especially since Marcius intended to question Alicia.

Jared preferred to speed it up before his friend could work himself into a real fighting mood. The meeting would just have to be controlled. Despite the theory he gave Marcius, the surprise and alarm he had gotten from the Academy wizard seemed genuine w
hen he told her, which meant there was more to this than meets the eye.

Or at least he hoped there was. If she had a hand in it, he would run her through himself. No one hurt his friends and got away with it.

He discreetly peeked at her out of the corner of his own eye. Wrapped up in her dark brown traveling cloak, bronze hair wet and dark as it clung tightly to her face even under the hood she wore; he did notice that it seemed as if she wasn't nearly as soaked as he was, but he wrote that off on account of being drunk. Secretly, he didn't think she was
really
responsible for what had happened, but then again, it just might be the lower half of him speaking in conjunction with the alcohol. She was easy on the eyes.

Anyways, he thought it would put his own a
spirations on track once more. No doubt they would have to go to Aralene, where the Academy was, to find their answers. A sizable journey no matter how you cut it, something he could easily worm himself into. Killing two drakes with one catapult
.
He smiled a bit, then immediately felt guilty about it. This was about his friend; first and foremost, and it was an injustice for him to derive any sort of pleasure while his friend was so obviously in grief. Still, he had to get out of this town and the most legit ticket he had still laid within Marcius.

The Mage behind him cleared her throat, obviously annoyed at his pause.

How was he supposed to know that the Mage was such an annoying brat? It was just a little water after all. Though, as he briefly dared to glance up, he realized that it would be prudent to get inside as soon as possible. The storm looked to be picking up. Plus, it had the nasty side effect of sobering him up, which in turn made the flaws in his scheme more and more apparent.

"Follow me, Mage La
dy, we're not far now, just another block or two." He put on his best grin, hoping it looked genuine and didn't betray the agitation he felt. The stare she gave him in return seemed to indicate that it was a wasted effort. With slight shrug, he left the safety of the shelter, running into the downpour.

They scurried toward their destination, taking refuge from the relentless rain where they could. The jagged building outline eventually broke into view through the storm, looming over them darkly in the dista
nce.

The Healer's Guild was stationed in remnants of an old castle tower, one of the few relics from the Dark Ages that still remained in Rhensford. Gradually, the building had been added upon and was changed drastically from what it once was, to its curre
nt incarnation of today, though it still managed to retain that old world look.

Dilapidated, worn, gray stone made up the base, while newer bricks and mortar became more frequent the higher you looked. Jared often wondered about the structural integrity o
f the makeshift hospital. It was one of the biggest buildings in Rhensford, which also made it perfect to house those unfortunate enough to need the treatment offered within; a big town needed a big hospital.

Across the thick oak door hung the crest
of the Healer's guild, a silver plated knight holding a red staff in one hand and a green sword in the other. They crossed over his chest in the gesture of peace, while behind him was a solid royal blue background.

The guild had been around ever since the
fall of the Dark Ages, founded by altruistic men and women intent on providing healing services for those in need; it was a self sufficient body that spanned several countries, including Lorinia and Morlian. Most leaders saw the obvious tangible benefit of a group of people willing to provide relatively free treatment to their ailing citizens, as such the members were generally accorded the utmost respect.

It was not uncommon for the resident guild in a country or area to receive tithes from the ruler eith
er. There was no centralized or governing institution, unlike the Academy, for although they all gathered under one banner, each region was granted autonomy within their area of control. Once every five or so years, they gathered to trade techniques and share news. Jared thought a lot of the other guilds, who were known for a lot of fighting within their own ranks, could have learned a lot from this guild was operated.

As the weary pair entered, both glad to be out of the rain, Jared happily found that the
reception room was relatively empty, minus the few bored looking apprentices shifting about. He never liked the various rooms in this building. They all had a drab, depressing feeling about them. Jared couldn't tell if it was the dull lighting from the candles and torches along the sides or if it was perhaps the sterile white walls and plain stone floor that caused it. Nevertheless, it was still better than being outside in a brewing storm. "Ah, Jared, so nice of you to visit!" exclaimed a voice, almost bubbling over with happiness.

Jared inwardly groaned, though he was proud that he showed nothing visible and even managed, what he hoped was, a receptive smile.

Debera, an old flame of his, was the owner of that voice and unlike him, she wore a genuine smile that was just bright as her tone. The healer was sitting down and drinking a cup of what Jared guessed was tea. With legs crossed, she regarded Jared with glittering brown eyes. She wore the standard healer's garb. A dark blue unbuttoned vest that held most of the tools of her trade in the various pockets that lined it, which went well with the clean white shirt underneath (a fact that proved that not much had happened today.) Earth brown trousers, that fitted the form a bit too well, showed off obviously well toned legs that were used to hard traveling and work.

A pin was buttoned on her vest, the crest of Healer's guild, only Jared noticed something was amiss. Instead of the normal crest, this one had a gold bar that ran across the bottom. This could only
mean one thing. "Congratulations on the promotion, Deb."

Debera beamed back at him. She was attractive, Jared had to admit, and at one time he could have claimed they had been together as something more than just friendly acquaintances.

But she wanted more than Jared could give, and he didn't intend on staying in Rhensford. The last thing he needed was something anchoring him here. So he had cut it off, but it was evident at the way she stared at him, as if she was devouring his body, that some flames still smoldered under that calm exterior of hers.

"Oh, it's not a big deal." It was obvious that she was fishing for compliments by downplaying it. One did not have to be a member of the Healer
’s guild to understand how significant that single gold bar was. It indicated that she had finally graduated from apprentice to that of journeyman.

"It sure is! All that hard work finally paid off, huh?"

She nodded and a slight blush, barely visible in the candle lit reception room, crept on her cheeks at his compliment. "So," she now switched to the no-nonsense voice of a professional, "What business do you have here? I'm going to assume it's not just to see me?" The eyes told him she wouldn't have minded if that was the case.

"No, unfortunately that is not so. Is Marcius
Realure here? He should have come to check up on his pet, I was to meet him."

"Yes, he's right inside, what about your
. . . friend?"

It was then that Jared felt the twinges of self-consciousness set in. He knew how ridiculous both of them must look right n
ow. Wet from head to toe, dripping on the cold stone floor and no doubt his cheeks still carried the rosy sheen effects of alcohol. He also sported a black eye from his scuffle with Marcius, which didn't help. He was a mess
.

Debera
’s body language showed something else. Was it jealousy? The rest of the apprentices discreetly edged closer, this would fuel their gossip for days to come.

He looked over to the Mage, pleading with her to silently to help him out. Last thing he needed was a jealous girl within th
e Healer's guild. Jared also noted that despite the slight drunkenness that still swam about his head, his initial observation had been correct. The Mage was indeed drier than he was, much drier in fact. There was only a small puddle about her feet, while it looked like he had carried the entire Gaellec Ocean in the room.