Midnight Quest (24 page)

“Quite the tale,” Stalton stated when they were done. “Doesn’t resemble what I’ve been hearing, either. Only thing the rumors got right was that the Priestess was absconded out of Belthain in the dead of night. They’re still not sure who kidnapped her.”

“Good,” Sarvell said blandly.

“I’ve still been seeing a lot of Thornock soldiers coming through and there’s quite the bounty price on your heads,” his father warned. “You can’t relax yet. You’d best come up with some sort of disguise.”

Chizeld let out a gusty sigh. “Suggestions would be welcome.”

“Disguising me
is
challenging,” Jewel bemoaned.

“I’ll think on it,” Stalton promised. “But for tonight, rest. I’ll talk to a few people tomorrow and see if I can’t get a better idea of what’s happening out there. You all look like you could use a day of rest anyway.”

“It wouldn’t hurt,” Chizeld agreed. “Many thanks.”

“Not at all.”

~*~*~*~

Everyone went to bed that night with relish, anticipating nice, soft beds and no smoke blowing in their faces in the middle of the night. All three men poked their heads into her room to make sure she had everything she wanted before turning in. She shooed them all out, calling out good nights, and snuggled into bed with Bortonor stretched out at her feet.

She awoke with a scream tearing from her throat, face drenched with tears, and a hard hand shaking her shoulder.

“Jewel, wake up! It’s just a nightmare, wake up!”

Sarvell. She flailed upright and grabbed his arm with both hands in a vise-like grip. “Sarvell, where’s Rialt?!” she demanded in panic.

“Here, lass.” Another hand reached out to grasp her left shoulder.

She instantly released Sarvell and followed Rialt’s arm up until she could throw both arms around shoulders. The dream was still with her, each terrifying second of it flashing through her mind, and she held on to him with every ounce of strength she possessed even as aftershocks trembled through her body.

“Whoa, lass, what be this now?” he asked in alarm. His large hands came up and started making soothing circles against her back.

Alive. He was alive. She took in a deep breath, letting the scent of him fill her head. His body felt reassuringly solid and warm against her. The vestiges of the dream fell away and her tremors eased to little more than a memory.

“That must have been quite the dream,” Chizeld stated. His tone invited Jewel to talk about it, if she so wished.

 Her hands clenched even tighter in the collar of Rialt’s shirt as she whispered into his shoulder, “Foretelling dream.”

Chizeld hissed in a sharp breath.

Rialt went very, very still against her. “What now?”

Jewel took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She still felt like curling up under a bed. Or maybe finding a place to throw up. But she couldn’t do either one of those things, and she couldn’t keep clinging to Rialt like a dependent child. Every man in the room was very worried about her and just as importantly, they needed to know what the dream meant. Taking another breath, she made herself lean back, untangling her hands from his shirt.

Rialt, bless him, did not say a word to her but simply helped her shift so that she sat on the edge of the bed. When she settled, he sat down next to her with an arm around her shoulders. She appreciated the comfort he offered and leaned into it.

The wood floor creaked slightly when Chizeld knelt down in front of her and took up one of her hands in a gentle grip. “Priestess, please describe the dream.”

“Cherchez is not pleased with our progress,” she reported as steadily as she could. Her voice was raspy but she couldn’t do anything about that, and continued gamely. “It should not come as a surprise that he is not pleased that we will strengthen the barrier soon. If we do so, after all, Daath will lose its chance to conquer Evard. In the dream tonight, he promised—no, threatened—that if we continue to find the crystals, he will send Daath assassins after me.” Jewel smiled grimly when Sarvell and Chizeld gave an angry hiss. Rialt just started cursing under his breath. “Actually, he showed me exactly what it would be like. The assassins came, Chizeld grabbed me and started to run…” here her voice broke and she had to strangle the urge to cry “…and Rialt rushed them. And then somehow, I lost Chizeld and I was in the middle of…nowhere. I couldn’t even sense anything around me. But I could hear,” she put a hand up to her ear, instinctively wanting to block that sound even though it didn’t exist in the real world. “I could hear weapons sliding from their sheaths, and the sounds of fighting, and screams of pain and I didn’t know who was injured.” That, really, terrified her more than anything. The
not knowing
whether she’d lost someone important to her or not. With every word, she was reliving the scene more and more. They likely didn’t need to know all of this anyway. The fact that the dream terrified her right to her bones was enough. She finished with, “Sarvell, you woke me up just as I heard him die.”

“Jewel, I wouldna die that easily.”

“Says the man that thinks taking on a whole castle full of guards is just a bit of fun,” she growled in aggravation. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t be that reckless!”

Sarvell gave a dark chuckle. “She’s got you there, my friend.”

“If receiving dreams now, it means that Cherchez is becoming irate, yes.” Chizeld said slowly, clearly thinking aloud. “But also means that actions are effective.”

“Yes,” Sarvell agreed slowly. “It means we’re being effective, but it also means that things are sure to get harrier from now on. He’s not going to rely on dreams to scare her into line.”

“So our window of opportunity is closing.” Jewel soaked up the silent support from all around her, knowing that she’d need every ounce of their strength in the months to come. Then she lifted her chin in a gesture of defiance and determination. “I think we’d better pick up the pace, gentlemen. We’re running out of time.”

Chapter Sixteen

After everyone had gone back to bed, Jewel’s mind kept revisiting the scene over and over again. She awoke the next morning with throbbing temples, sore eyes and a knot coiled in the pit of her stomach.

Someone had been kind enough to leave a new dress on the foot of her bed. The feel of fine linen met her fingertips. With a smile on her face, she put it on and found that it fit tolerably well. Well, that was nice of someone. Sarvell’s mother, perhaps?

Feeling a little better about facing the day, she had Bortonor lead her downstairs. She’d barely gained the stairwell when voices from somewhere on the main floor drifted up.

“—cannot believe that any son of mine could show a young woman such discourtesy!” Pursa said in a very disgruntled tone. “And a high priestess at that!”

“
Mother
,” Sarvell let out a gusty sigh. “We’ve been just a
little
busy with dodging Thornock soldiers and finding lost crystals. Shopping wasn’t really a priority.”

“Well it is today! That poor girl is not going to run around the country with only two dresses to her name. The very idea is preposterous. Go get dressed. As soon as we’ve eaten, we’re going out.”

“Don’t you think you should ask her first?”

“Actually,” Jewel said as she cleared the steps, “I wouldn’t mind the outing. I won’t be able to pay for it, though, unless we go to an Order Temple first.”

“Don’t you mind about how to pay for anything,” Pursa assured her firmly. “But oh my, that dress does become you. I knew red would be a good color, what with your dark hair and fair skin.”

Since color meant absolutely nothing to her, Jewel just smiled and responded, “It fits quite well. Thank you.”

“My father is out now gathering information for us,” Sarvell volunteered. “Rialt and Chizeld have plans to get the horses re-shod. I wouldn’t mind picking up a few supplies while we have the time. If you truly want to go shopping, I will be very happy to accompany you.”

The very
last
thing that she wanted to do was sit around the house with only her memory of that dream for company. “Yes, please.”

“Alright, then.”

~*~*~*~

Re-shoeing the horses actually wasn’t that high of a priority, but considering that the party would be riding the width and breadth of Evard in the upcoming months, everyone thought it prudent to get it done now. Chizeld kept an eye on Rialt as the men followed Sarvell’s directions to a nearby smithy. The Ramathan had clearly
not
wanted to separate from Jewel and had only acquiesced upon the priestess’s calm insistence.

Not much passed between the two as both horses were handed over to the blacksmith.

“Can a man borrow your grinding wheel for a space?” Rialt asked the smith. “My axe be a bit dull.”

The blacksmith waved a hand over to the far corner, where a grinding wheel sat. “Feel free.”

Chizeld followed Rialt over and watched silently as the Ramathan wet the stone, pulled up a stool and started the wheel moving. Propping both shoulders up against the wall, the guardsman just watched and let the mind spin free.

A week ago, when Chizeld had finally caught up with the party, these two men seemed strange. Unwelcome interlopers in a way, yet Chizeld knew full well why both men had been called and not the rest of the guard. Trusting in Elahandra, had kept an eye on things and tried to analyze the Ramathan and Brynian.

Hadn’t taken long to realize that both were good, honest men who cared deeply for Jewel. The young woman’s safety was the top priority, with happiness being a close second. Chizeld was not surprised by this. After all, Elahandra would be very picky on who to call for aid. Still, not many men would drop everything and rush off in the dead of night without feeling some regret or frustration. Chizeld was more surprised both willingly stayed even after the rightful guardsman showed up. Most would have taken that moment to make excuses and go back to normal life.

Chizeld had been doubly surprised when Rialt had chosen to be a permanent armsman. No, that wasn’t quite correct—had
argued
for the right to be one. Chizeld had realized in that moment that the level of affection Rialt had for Jewel went far deeper than first supposed. This wasn’t mere affection, but a fiercely deep love and loyalty. This level of commitment was what Jewel should have had all along.

When Rialt accepted the mantle of armsman, all of Chizeld’s reservations fell away. This man could be trusted with anything. In that moment, Chizeld stopped viewing Rialt as a man shouldering a temporary duty and started to see the brother-in-arms the Ramathan had become.

It was to this new brother that Chizeld quietly asked, “Last night’s dream still bothers?”

Rialt let out a heavy breath, but neither eyes nor hands left the wheel. “No. I knew the Daath wouldna sit still, no for long, so it nay comes as a surprise. What troubles me be Jewel.”

Chizeld’s eyes narrowed, head canting slightly. “Reaction was normal enough, considering.”

“No man, it was no normal at all.” This time, Rialt did sit back, taking the axe off the grinding wheel to look at Chizeld directly. “I have seen the lass face ministers, gods, and un-scalable cliffs. She has never once flinched. Corbeird’s beard! She has faced dangers any grown man would pause over, and her no able to even walk about without aid. I know the courage of her heart like no other. And to see her
that
shaken…” he trailed off in an unhappy scowl.

Good grief, did not see the obvious? “Rialt, any heart would be shaken to see a loved one die. Even if only a dream.”

Rialt gave a scowl as if Chizeld were purposefully prodding at an open wound. “That be no the point. Shards, man, but we be here to help and protect her. No to add to her troubles!”

“Can’t have one without the other.”

Steam started coming out of Rialt’s ears. “
Chizeld
.”

The Verisan could only shrug helplessly. “Life
is
trouble. Cannot protect Jewel from everything. The morning light helped to banish the night’s dream anyway. Jewel seemed well enough this morning.”

Rialt harrumphed and went back to his sharpening. “She was putting on a front, she was.”

“Mayhap,” he agreed, spreading both hands out in an open shrug. “But does not a person become the mask donned?”

Rialt lifted the axe from the grinder again, seeming to mull that over for a spell, before blowing out another heavy breath. “Eh, there be truth in that. Chizeld. This foretelling dream business—do you know something of it?”

“Yes, some,” he admitted. “Foretelling dreams only warn of a
possible
future. Not absolute.”

The Ramathan gave a nod as if this only confirmed suspicions. “Although I would lay odds that Corbeird has already dispatched one team to make that dream reality.”

Probably. The God of Misfortune was very predictable in that aspect. “Need to keep one eye over the shoulder.”

“Eh, watching our backs be a good thing.” Rialt hefted the axe in his hand and stood up. “Want to sharpen that sword of yours while we be here?”

Having a sharpened blade didn’t seem a half-bad idea at that. Chizeld wordlessly unsheathed his sword and took over Rialt’s spot at the wheel.

~*~*~*~

Rialt entered the Sorpan home with every expectation that he had beaten the shopping party home by a good two hours. (He did, after all, have four sisters. He knew good and well that a bit of shopping could take all day.) So it came as a surprise when he heard Jewel’s voice laughing from up ahead.

Good front or no, she had obviously been a bit depressed this morning, so hearing her laugh out loud in true delight startled him. But he smiled as well to hear it, glad that the outing had brought her usual good spirits back.

It did no take him long at all to find her, seated in the family room, with Sarvell’s mother behind and fussing with her hair and Torilee laying one piece of clothing after another in Jewel’s hands for her to feel and discuss. The shopping trip had obviously been a successful one, as Jewel had on new black boots, a black riding skirt and a dark green shirt that fit her perfectly. She looked prettier than he had ever seen her.