Temple of the Traveler: Book 02 - Dreams of the Fallen (34 page)

The woman of the house returned, placed the round part of a wooden spoon into Sarajah’s hand, and began splinting the longest fingers to the handle with ribbon.

“I came back here because Jotham is the only candidate for the throne who’s playing with . . . well . . . a full deck,” explained the seeress.

When Sophia was done, she touched the high priestess’s chest and spelled, “G-o-o-d.”

Brent translated, “She says you have a good heart.”

“Yes, the cloak helped me understand what she spelled,” Sarajah said. “I’m not sure I agree. However, I would accept some of that stuffed chicken, but not under glass.”

The lady of the house led her into the kitchen. While the seeress ate, Sophia fetched the best vintage they had to help her numb the pain.

When Jolia came into the kitchen, Sarajah handed her the document promising safe passage by sea. “Go to the Center till this war blows over. You belong at court. Find some lonely aristocrat and make him the envy of the islands.”

The courtesan laughed, “This is amazing; it’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. How? Why?”

The high priestess thought for a moment. “I earned it by doing a reading for the Kragen witch. I meant to use it to get as far from her as possible.”

“What changed your mind? The sheriff with the body? Don’t worry. I’m not after him; I won’t get in your way,” Jolia assured her.

“In my way? No. Although it’s smart to get you out of here before you make a pass at the architect,” Sarajah said, making the other woman blush. “Seriously, you were the second person to help me in my new life. You had no reason to show such kindness. To balance my aid to Sandarac’s side, I did a reading of the cards for you.”

“He always loved when you did that for him! What did you see? Tell me,” Jolia said, hopping up and down.

“You’re going to meet a valiant stranger, someone high ranking. He’s going to take you on a long journey, and you’re going to be happy again.” Tapping the safe passage, she said, “That’s your ticket. I couldn’t use it, knowing what it could mean for you. After tonight, I’m also convinced these people need my help to stay alive.”

Sophia had been watching them for several moments before she popped the cork to get their attention. She took out three fine glasses that couldn’t survive the trip, and which she would probably never see again. Then the lady of the house poured her finest vintage into each. She raised her glass in a toast.

“To choices,” said Sarajah.

“And new friends,” added Jolia.

Saying goodbye to the others at the architect’s mansion took Jolia half an hour. They parted ways at midnight. She even got a fatherly
hug from Simon. “Wives,” she sighed as she walked toward the docks. To her surprise, there were sentries at every crossroads and patrols roving in between. Afraid that Humi was searching for her, the former consort hid in the bushes. From the brush, she overheard that they were searching for a green-eyed woman who’d stolen the empress-to-be’s prized necklace. There was a sizable reward. Jolia ran back to tell the others, but they were long gone. The ancient caretaker said, “Maybe you’d better stay safe here till morning, missy. You’re always welcome.”

She shook her head. “If I don’t leave now, I never wl. There’ll always be another excuse, another reason to hide. I can see in the dark, and I’ve traveled before. Besides, the exercise will help tone my calves and behind. My butt ached all last week from the trip here.”

Jolia walked along the riverbanks instead of using the roads. It was slower going, but she didn’t have to worry about soldiers. The trip should have taken her only six hours; however, with the scenic route and a brief nap, she reached the outskirts of Turiv at two hours past noon. Then, she had to hide while ships unloaded wounded soldiers and took on supplies.

The former concubine avoided the men from the first ship, but sailors from the second pressed her into labor. There was just no one else around. Even tavern owners and merchants were hauling the injured to the tent city. After five trips, her hands were raw from the stretcher handles, and she collapsed behind some bales of cotton on the dock to get some rest.

The tired half-Imperial awoke at dawn on the next day. A magnificent old ship had just docked, but no one dared greet it. Turiv was a ghost town. Noticing the Kragen marks on the bow, she cleaned herself and marched up to the gangplank. Jolia had a writ from Lady Humi herself!

“A master of disguise. The bosom matches the description, though. And that necklace could be hidden anywhere,” reasoned the head soldier.

The other soldier added, “We’ll have to search extra thorough.”

She dropped the first man with a well-placed kick to the groin. The second grabbed for her, but caught only the hem of her skirt. The fabric ripped as she struggled to escape. The dress had ripped to her knee by the time the first man whipped his sword free from its scabbard. He wheezed, “I’ve had just about enough . . .”

A well-groomed knight with a gold-trimmed sword strode down the gangplank with supreme bearing. He could’ve balanced a drinking bowl on top of his head without spilling a drop. With a highborn southern accent that gave Jolia a perverse thrill, the scout captain said, “What’s the meaning of this?”

When the man at her feet tried to make a grab for her waist, Jolia elbowed him in the nose. The senior dock guard lunged toward her with murder in his eye. The scout captain grabbed a wooden pin from inside a coil of ropes and hurled it at the attacker from three strides away.

“Ow!” cried the soldier as the pin smacked him. He turned the blade toward the newcomer. “Who the blue blazes do you think you are?”

Closing the gap between them, the captain said, “A superior officer who just asked you a question. And if I weren’t a gentleman on the way to a formal reception, I would’ve drawn my sword already. If you fail to answer me again, I can still use the scabbard to give you a thrashing.”

The guard started to brag until he saw the lean and serious men lining the rails of the deck. Several of them had bows aimed his way. He lowered the blade. “Forgive me, sir. She attacked us.”

The captain walked over to her, examined the seal, and compared it to the one on his invitation. “Indeed you do, lady. It seems you’re my welcoming committee.”

She favored him with a smile designed to distract crowds and let her knee show through the fabric of her torn dress as she reclaimed the writ. He noticed and dropped his own paper.

She bent over to retrieve it, and every sailor on the dock watched in silence. “I’m in your debt, sir,” she said, handing the invitation to him. “Jolia.”

Taking her hand, he bowed his forehead to it and said, “Onira.”

Men from the ship flanked them, eager to get a closer look. General Navarra, who’d traveled with the scouts, disarmed the dock guards personally.

The suave scout commander said, “A lady like yourself should never have to fear her own defenders. The entire army is in your debt. How shall we punish these offenders? I hear that the emperor requires all his sailors to study swimming. Perhaps we should give these dock apes swimming lessons.”

In the Inner Sea, those lessons could have been quite dangerous. Both men started to shake and plead. Navarra used a single glove to slap each. “Silence, or I will choose.”

“You don’t want that,” whispered the general’s adjutant. “He likes to make examples.”

They forced the two miscreants to kneel before the woman.

“Well . . . since the entire town has been hauling injured soldiers to a camp an hour north of here, you’re not likely to find anyone to help you unload,” she began.

The officer handed over his weapon without hesitation. The soldiers on their knees started shaking. Urine trickled onto the decking. Jolia ignored them and used the blade to shape the dress’s rip to arc in a pattern that looked intentional. The alternation showed her right leg to advantage. The crowd was growing. “I only mentioned this because you may need someone to carry your luggage, and they might serve.”

“You have a personal invitation to the wedding from Sandarac,” she noted. “That means you’ll be at the palace. An entourage this big would mean the second floor of the east wing. I’m guessing the blue suite.”

“Well,” Onira said cautiously, “I don’t know anyone in the entire kingdom, but you seem to be a veritable font of life-saving information. Having such a person on my arm during the days of ceremony ahead would be invaluable. Do you have an escort for the wedding?”

She raised an eyebrow.
Thank you, Sarajah.
Out loud, she said, “I must warn you of two things. First, I’m going to stand out in high society like a cow at a tea party. But I don’t hide who I am; what you see is what you get. People are going to talk about me wherever we go.”

“Nothing you could say would dissuade me after that warning,” Onira promised.

She wrinkled her face. “Sweet, but you need to hear this. When I said I knew the emperor, I mean that I
knew
the emperor.”

The criminals fell on their faces, blubbering. It was distracting, so she stepped aside with Onira. Stammering, he asked, “You were part of his harem?”

“Honey, I
was
the harem,” she bragged. “And if you’re still willing to take me to the wedding, I’ll be there to wash your back.”