Midnight Quest (30 page)

He had a point. Several of them, in fact. And yet…something still bothered her.

Rialt clearly realized he hadn’t convinced her, as he let out a groan. The sound of fabric abruptly moving, and the slight squeak of the bedsprings told her that he had left his bed. Confused at his movements, she sat up too, twisting about so that her legs were tucked together off to one side.

The empty space beside her dipped abruptly as Rialt sat next to her, slipping an arm around her shoulders in a comforting hold. “Worrying be no good for a man’s soul. It only erodes the spirit and saps your strength.”

“You’re right.” She leaned into the embrace and put her head on his shoulder. “How do
you
deal with things like this?”

“I sort it out in my mind into things I can control and things I can no. There be a long list with the latter,” he added with a soft chuckle. “But I think with you, it be just habit by now. If a man worries long enough, he forgets to relax.”

Jewel wasn’t completely sold on this notion, but he might have a point. “It’s a little hard to relax at the moment.”

“Hmm, I will grant you that. Let us try a trick of my father’s, eh?” Without waiting for her response, he shifted his arm from her shoulders and picked up one of her hands. With both thumbs, he started smoothing and massaging her palm and wrist.

“
Oh
.” An unknowing smile of pleasure flitted around the corners of her mouth. She hadn’t realized just how tired her hands were until he started doing that. “Your father does this?” she asked dreamily.

“Eh, for my mother, after she has been baking all day. Kneading the dough puts her hands into a moiled snarl, it does.”

What a terribly lucky woman. She relaxed into the soothing motion, enjoying the rough heat emanating from his hands. “Remind me to thank him later for teaching you this.”

He snorted. “Like I would remember such a thing. Alright, other hand.”

Her right hand felt a little lonely when he picked up her left and started working on it.

“I heard a snatch in passing,” he mentioned idly. “What was that about, earlier? Chantel said something about choosing between us three.”

“Oh, that?” As flabbergasted as she had been at the time, Jewel found it funny now. “I think she assumed that I’d fallen for one of you.”

“Ho, and what did you tell her?”

“That it’s a little hard to be romantically minded while camping out doors and washing in streams,” she responded dryly.

“Eh, there be truth.” His hands left hers, rising so that he started to gently rub her temples in small circles. “Well, if you do decide to fancy one of us, I be the best candidate.”

Ah…he is teasing me…right?
She couldn’t quite tell from his tone. “And why is that?”

“My amazing massage skills, of course. You think the other two can do this?”

She nearly choked on a laugh. Alright, he was teasing. “You make an
excellent
point. I shall remember that the next time Chantel tries to weasel anything out of me.”

His hands lightly traced down the side of her face and settled on the base of her neck before resuming that gentle, circular massage. “Your eyes are drooping. Ready for sleep now?”

She mimicked his accent. “Eh, that I be.”

He gave a soft, breathless laugh at her teasing. “Then I’m away to my bed. Sleep tight.”

“You too.”

~*~*~*~

Rialt listened intently to Jewel’s breathing. He did no need to look to tell when she finally slipped into sleep. She had her own rhythm to breathing while asleep, one unlike any he had ever heard tale of. It was like she
hummed
, as the tones of it rose and fell in a musical pattern. It was, by and large, one of the cuter things she did while sleeping. He did no think she was aware of it—she always tried to fool him by breathing deep and even, after all.

With her truly asleep, he shifted about in his bed just enough to watch her. She lay on her side, hair in a loose braid over her shoulder, the dog using her hip as his pillow. Not a trace of worry on her face, just the peaceful expression of a woman in dreamland.

Two months ago when he had fetched her out of Belthain Castle, he had gone for selfish reasons. He had stayed beside her because
someone
needed to, and he did no trust another to do the job right. Later, he had sworn himself to her because he was fond of the lass and honest enough with himself to admit that he would
never
be satisfied with someone else protecting her.

Now, the question stood thus: just when had that honest affection and pure desire to protect turned into this constant need to touch?

When he had suggested choosing him, she had laughed as if she thought the words were in jest. They half were. But no in full. He had wanted to know the answer to that question. He just did no know what to do with the answer afterwards. Could a man even have a relationship with a priestess? It was a matter he had never thought to ask about afore.

If there
were
a rule against it, he and Elahandra would be bargaining again, make no mistake. Exasperated with himself, he flopped back onto his back and stared sightlessly at the ceiling. Oh, this was a fine tangle, it was. Just how had he managed to tie himself to her in every way
but
the one he really wanted?

Ya eijit,
he thought to himself in resignation,
when did you become so love-daft for the girl?

Chapter Twenty-one

The next morning everyone assembled at the stables after a very large and satisfying breakfast. Someone—probably Piers—had seen to it that all of the horses were saddled and ready by the time the group came outside. All that was left was the formal visit to the Temple of Elahandra.

Chizeld didn’t look forward to this next step. In order to truly begin working, a visit to the Temple of Elahandra in Rounsefell was in order. The party had put it off, choosing instead to scout out the area around the temple and see if it was being watched. In a word: yes.

But these weren’t just a few bounty hunters and watchers on Thornock’s payroll. Apparently someone in Belthain had sat down and really thought things through, realizing that Jewel would
have
to go to the temple or the Center in Rounsefell. So the men dispatched there were high-ranking ministers’ aides. Aside from recognizing some of the men so patiently waiting inside the temple’s foyer, Chizeld easily recognized the insignia embroidered on the right breast of the men’s coats. The Minister of Defense and the Minister of Foreign Affairs had sent men here.

This…would be troublesome.

Everyone knew what awaited at the temple, and the surrounding tension was heavy. Every person was braced for a confrontation that, though inevitable, no one looked forward to. Chizeld led the way but kept sneaking peeks over one shoulder. Rialt had refused to let Jewel ride alone, so Priestess was instead tucked in front with a very protective arm around the waist. The Ramathan kept reaching up and fingering the handle of the axe jutting out above right shoulder, as if tempted to draw it now. Chizeld could almost feel sorry for any man that tried to get near Jewel with Rialt in
that
mood. Sarvell rode closer than normal as well, eyes darting about in obvious suspicion, with one hand openly riding on the sword hilt. Even Bortonor had picked up the mood, trotting along at Jewel’s side, manner more alert and cautious than normal.

The only person who didn’t seem battle ready was Chantel, but even then, a dark expression lingered on the priestess’s face. If anyone dared to cross that woman, life afterwards would be a political nightmare. Chantel would see to that.

Chizeld would have vastly preferred to do this visit
after
being reinforced with armsmen from the Center, but until an investigation could be completed, no one from the Center could be really called trustworthy. As Chizeld had no idea how long an investigation would take, Jewel hadn’t been willing to wait and voted to just go this morning and get the confrontation over with.

Funny, how no one seemed to think that Thornock might win this and Jewel be dragged back to Belthain. Only Chizeld seemed to be worried about that outcome.

If only Jewel weren’t the Guardian of the Barrier… Since being re-called as High Priestess of Ramath, Thornock had no reason to want back, not really. Not with Tamarra Matthison as High Priestess of Thornock. But with Jewel still in the position as Guardian, the ministers weren’t willing to let go.

All of these peregrinations occupied a corner of Chizeld’s mind but didn’t distract completely. Like Sarvell, Chizeld constantly scanned the surrounding streets and pedestrians as the party fought through the early morning traffic and crossed over to the Temple of Elahandra.

Being such a large city, with such a high influx of different clansmen, the temple here had a more auspicious air to it than usual. Built from white granite quarried from the nearby Darwall Mountains, it shone in the morning sun like a newly polished diamond. This building stood an imposing five stories, much taller than any other edifice around it, and sprawled in every direction, taking up the full corner of a city block. Of course, by doing so, the front gates had practically no space to divide it from the main doors. One side held a series of iron rings embedded in the low wall, just for visitors to tie horses to, but it left limited space. If trouble did start, it would not be a good place to fight.

Of course, all of this also meant that as soon as the party rode through the main gate, anyone standing near the main door could see arrival. Chizeld kept one eye on the main door as everyone cautiously dismounted. Sure enough, a complement of Thornock guardsmen rushed down the stairs and the aides for the Minister of Defense and the Minister of Foreign Affairs quickly descended.

Shards
.

Jewel’s extended hand found Chizeld’s shoulder and grasped it tightly. “They’re here, aren’t they?”

“Yes,” Chizeld answered simply.

“Alright.” Jewel drew in a breath and squared both shoulders, as if preparing for battle. Chizeld blinked, watching in amazement to see the change in demeanor. In a split second, the priestess had gone from a very worried young woman to someone that radiated power and authority. Chizeld darted a look at Rialt’s face, but the other man didn’t seem surprised by this change. Had Jewel done this before, then?

Jewel let go of both men and took two steps forward, standing straight and tall. In open challenge, the High Priestess of Ramath demanded, “Who is before me?”

Something about this authoritative demeanor made both aides pause for a moment. Exchanging anxious looks, the men slowed slightly and came to a complete stop some feet away. “Priestess Jomadd,” one of them began formally, “I am Cavin Herlevi, First Aide to the Minister of Defense.”

Chizeld had once met the Minister of Defense. Herlevi bore a striking resemblance to the man with that bushy red hair, bulbous nose, and slightly jolly figure. If not an illegitimate son, then perhaps a nephew? The armsman didn’t believe for one second that Herlevi had earned the position.

Not to be outdone, Herlevi’s compatriot chimed in. “I am Revel Briones, First Aide to the Minister of Foreign Affairs. Priestess Jomadd, we are here to bring you into custody and take you safely back to—”

“A dungeon?” Jewel interrupted with a sardonic twist of the lips. “I think not. Gentlemen, you are operating outside of your jurisdiction and without proper authority. Whatever orders you might have received from the ministers of Thornock, you have no power over the Priestesses of Elahandra. The very idea is insulting, actually. You will cease and desist immediately.”

Chizeld stared in frank amazement. Where did this confidence
come
from? Didn’t Jewel realize that the armsmen were outnumbered three-to-one? If it came to a fight, all three men would certainly do so, but winning was another matter entirely.

Briones wasn’t swayed one bit by this argument. “Priestess Jomadd, I don’t think you realize—”

“It’s because I realized that I was thrown into a dungeon cell by
your
Minister,” Jewel interrupted again, impatiently. “Let me make a few points clear. I am no longer the High Priestess of Thornock but have been re-called as the High Priestess of Ramath.”

From the startled blink from both men, that news hadn’t made it this far south yet.

“The
new
High Priestess of Thornock is Tamarra Matthison,” Jewel added with a particularly evil smile.

Chizeld had to bite back a smile as well when the aides turned a little pale at this information.

“I have been in contact with her,” no one dared to ask how, “and she has assured me that the office of High Priestess has been separated from the Thornock government as it
always should have been
. We are not under your jurisdiction,” Jewel rephrased, stronger than before. “You have no right to dictate to us or to control our movements.”

“But Priestess,” Herlevi riposted in a soothing tone, as if the man still believed to have the upper hand, “as the Guardian of the Barrier, your office falls directly under the Minister of Defense and as such—”

“As Guardian of the Barrier, I am
above
the rank of a clan’s Head Priestess. The only person that I report to directly is Elahandra herself.”

Herlevi was like a dog with a bone, refusing to let go. “But the barrier exists within Thornock and as such—”

Chantel, apparently having enough of this political double-talk, stepped forward with an angry scowl. “The barrier does
not
solely exist within Thornock. Just because you have the central crystal doesn’t mean that you have complete authority over it!”

Briones gave the other aide a look that spoke volumes:
negotiations have failed. Fall back to Plan B.
Chizeld didn’t need to be a mind reader to know what Plan B entailed. Grimly, the armsman put a hand on the hilt of the sword and prepared for a battle right here on the steps.

“We have our orders, Priestess Jomadd,” Herlevi stated with finality. “Please dispatch your armsmen to the Center and we will take you to Thornock.”