The Price of Faith (3 page)

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Authors: Rob J. Hayes

Tags: #Fantasy

BOOK: The Price of Faith
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She looked at him and her ice blue eyes were cold and hard. “Try it and I’ll have you strapped to the bed.”

“I’ve been strapped to more than enough beds recently, thank you. The witch, Shen, you know more than you’re letting on.”

“Is chasing her all you care about?”

Thanquil started to push himself up, as if to leave the bed. Her hand went to his chest and she pushed gently. He made a show of struggling against her until she bent close to him.

“Sleep,” she whispered at him and he felt it then; his limbs went leaden and his eyelids drooped, energy seemed to leak from every part of his body as he collapsed back onto the bed.

Shen’s face hovered just inches above his own; the cold look in her eyes was gone, replaced by one of pity. “Sleep now.”

Thanquil closed his eyes and slumped, letting every part of him go loose. Again he felt her lips against his own for a moment and then she whispered in his ear. “I’m sorry.”

Shen waited only a brief moment before striding away. Thanquil listened to her footsteps retreat and kept his ruse. If his judgement on time was anything to go by he would have to wait only two hours before the sun had well and truly set and darkness once again ruled the sky. He would need the shadows if he was to accomplish his task.

Those two hours proved to be some of the longest of his life. He soon discovered pretending to be asleep was about as much fun as it sounded and it sounded far from fun to begin with. Shen never made another appearance or at least she never spoke if she did. He heard some of the other healers from time to time, they whispered and occasionally he heard his name but Thanquil wasn’t about to risk blessing his senses just to eavesdrop on some gossip.

When the noises died down and eventually stopped that was when he risked cracking an eye open. He scanned the room quickly and found it empty of healers, only the sick and injured remained and most of those were either sleeping or long past waking ever again.

Holding his breath Thanquil swung first one leg over the side of the bed then another before hopping down onto the floor. His legs wobbled but held and he clutched to the bed for support. He had been injured before and worse than this but never had he felt so weak, that was proof enough for him that this was no natural malady.

Taking a deep breath he began chanting a blessing of strength and felt new power surge into his limbs burning away the weakness. He expertly combined it with a blessing of endurance. There were not many Arbiters who could use dual blessings but it was a skill Thanquil had long ago mastered. His own skill with a sword may be lacking but he had always excelled at his studies where blessings and curses were involved.

Thanquil tore the sling from his left arm and worked the shoulder joint. It screamed in pain still but it was nothing he couldn’t live with. He pulled on his worn, faded trousers and quickly belted them, reassured by the familiar weight of his sword and pistol. His shirt was missing and he remembered leaving it back at the inn when he was leaping out a window. He pulled his coat around his shoulders and threaded both arms through the sleeves, tugging the leather duster into position. Finally he looked around for his boots but found none, those too he must have left back at the inn. Barefoot was never a good idea but sometimes, Thanquil knew, needs must.

Most of the other patients were asleep, resting and recovering but one man was watching Thanquil through a wary eye. Half of the man’s face was covered in thick bandages stained a muddy red with fresh seepage. He made no move to talk or warn anyone of the witch hunter’s imminent departure, only watched as Thanquil made ready to sneak from the infirmary.

Thanquil walked past the man, not willing to look. “I’m sorry,” he said in a quiet voice. “I didn’t start the fire but… Sorry.”

The man said nothing in reply and Thanquil decided to take his leave.

The door to the infirmary was unlocked but even had it been Thanquil would have found a way. In his youth he’d spent no small amount of time with a gang of thieves in Sarth. It had sated his need to steal and taught him a great many skills he had found useful in life; chief among them, running away.

He cracked the door open a jar and thanked Volmar the hinges were well oiled; it made not a sound. Peering out he saw a hallway beyond, lit by the dull orange flicker of candle light. It was no wonder places burned down when folk left untended open flames in buildings made of wood. Back in Sarth the majority of the city was stone. The kingdom was known for its near limitless supply of brilliant white marble and, as a show of wealth and power, most of the city was built from the beautiful substance. Of course the white marble had a nasty habit of becoming dirty and faded so most of the city was also cleaned daily by an army of slaves. Not a practice that Thanquil personally agreed with but then it certainly wasn’t his place to make policy, especially as, being a wandering Arbiter, he spent most of his time out in the world hunting heresy, not sat in a comfortable room writing rules on paper.

The corridor looked empty from his relatively narrow vantage point and he could hear nothing outside the faint hiss and pop of the candle and the ragged snoring of a patient behind him. Still chanting his blessings of strength and endurance Thanquil edged through the gap in the door and pulled it close behind him.

Ahead was another door, the same as the one he had just come through. Thanquil decided the wise money was on it being another ward for patients and decided it was best left alone. To his left the hallway ran straight forwards with a looping staircase to on one side and a door to the other. Thanquil padded up to the door, the bare floor rough against the soles of his feet, and snuck a glance out of the shuttered window. He saw bare earth, a raised platform with a hastily constructed stock and clear dark sky alight with more stars than he could count. That brief sight reminded him of Jezzet, she had always loved the stars, usually so jittery and energetic, the stars seemed able to capture her attention in a way nothing else could so that she would sit and watch the lights twinkle in and out of existence for hours. The memory both gladdened and saddened Thanquil and he turned away from the exit and from freedom and instead mounted the first stair.

Thanquil

The top stair creaked as his weight hit it and Thanquil froze. He waited, straining his ears for any sign that someone had heard. Time seemed to stretch on forever as he hesitated with one foot on the stair behind and the other on the creaking plank of wood that was determined to betray his presence.

Nothing.

With a smug sneer towards the offending stair Thanquil pulled his foot back and stepped up to the landing. As if to mock him the first floorboard of the landing let out a loud groan as his full weight hit it. Thanquil breathed a silent sigh.

He had stopped chanting his blessings for now. It made him feel weak and every inch of him seemed to ache but too much use of a blessing would tire him out further, make him weary and unfocused. Right now Thanquil needed his mind to be sharp. He wasn’t certain of what he might encounter in the next room, let alone the rest of the little village and he needed to keep his wits about him at all costs.

Thanquil stopped at the first door he came across and pressed his ear up against the rough wood. There was no sound from within and no light spilled around the edges of the frame so he quickly moved towards the next door. Again he moved close and pressed his ear to wood.

“… not your choice to make,” said a male voice heavily accented by the region.

“And you think the choice should belong to you?” replied a female voice that sounded a lot like Shen despite the muffling provided by the door.

“Yes!”

“Well it doesn’t. This is my hospital and so long as it remains that way anyone and everyone inside of it is my responsibility. I will not allow you to murder a man who can’t defend himself.”

“You can’t stop us, woman. Whole town’s behind me. We reached an accord, all of us…”

“Not me.”

“Women don't get a vote. Either you bring the witch hunter out or…”

“Or what, Hizo? You’ll smash your way in here and take him by force? You do that who will heal you or that fool son or yours next time a wound gets infected? What about next time one of the village folk gets Pink Fly eggs, who will dig them out without me around? Who will pull Wowo’s child from between her legs next month without me around? One of the other girls? Not a one of them even knows how to stitch a wound without me looking over their shoulder.”

There was a short silence before Hizo spoke again. “You wouldn’t leave on account of him. What is he to you?”

“He’s in my care and I… I won’t… can’t let any harm come to him.”

Another silence.

“He’ll kill you,” Hizo said almost too softly for Thanquil to hear.

Thanquil pulled back from the door in shock. Things were starting to click into place. How Shen was able to command people to sleep with nothing but a word, her ability to heal others and the other villagers' deferral to her. She looked different from the apparition Thanquil had seen back in the inn just before it had burned to the ground but it all made sense now. Shen was the witch he was hunting, the witch he had been sent to kill.

He shook his head as he thought through everything that had happened since he left the capital. There was one thing that didn’t make sense; if Shen was the witch why was she protecting him now when she had spent the past two months trying so hard to kill him. She’d burned down the inn in an attempt to see him dead and now she was denying the villagers the chance to do her work for her.

The door opened and Hizo stood on the other side of the threshold staring at Thanquil with his mouth slightly ajar. He was a big man, a good head taller than Thanquil which made him near a giant as far as the Dragon Empire was concerned, and had enough bulk to make him more than a little dangerous. People from these parts were fruit collectors for the most part, used to climbing up and down trees all day, they were tough and strong but they were not fighters.

Thanquil counted himself lucky that Hizo was caught off guard by the appearance of the witch hunter as he launched himself at the villager pushing him hard in the chest. Hizo took a single step backwards onto his left foot and growled before swinging a heavy punch at Thanquil’s face.

Thanquil ducked the punch, started chanting a blessing of strength and sent a silent prayer of thanks to Jezzet for teaching him a few of her more choice unarmed combat moves. He sent a blessed fist into Hizo’s kidney and winced as the bigger man dropped to his knees with a cry of pain. Thanquil knew first hand just how much a blow like that could hurt, Jez had always been more of a hands on teacher. He quickly stepped behind Hizo and wrapped his arms around the man’s neck just like Jezzet had taught him. The Blademaster had shown him the exact placement needed to cut off the blood supply to person’s brain just long enough to make them loose consciousness. She had once used the move on Thanquil and by the time he had woken she had fully disrobed and was busy…

Hizo lurched to his feet, lifting Thanquil onto his back, and stumbled backwards. Thanquil hit the wall hard and both men crashed through the old wooden planks into the room beyond. The bigger man fell back and landed on top of Thanquil but still he did not release his hold, only gripped tighter.

Thanquil heard Shen shouting something from somewhere nearby but he didn’t have the time to look for the witch. He needed to deal with her minion quickly so he could fight them one at a time.

Hizo was weak now, his hands pawed impotently at Thanquil’s blessing enhanced arms and his mouth worked open and closed like that of a fish on dry land. Then the big man went limp and still.

Rolling Hizo away Thanquil forced himself to his feet. His shoulder hurt like it had recently been pulled from its socket and his legs seemed to wobble as stood. The witch let out a gasp and rushed forwards, kneeling by Hizo and putting her hand to his neck.

“He’s alive,” she exclaimed with a sigh.

Thanquil snorted. “Well of course he is,” his blessing of strength faded as he began to speak and his limbs felt heavy, like they were weighted down by some indomitable force. “If I’d wanted to kill him I would have drawn my sword.”

“Then why did you attack him?” she demanded. Her face was flushed red and her eyes looked damp. Thanquil found himself feeling decidedly guilty.

“I… well… I mean… he…” Thanquil let out a growl and grabbed hold of Shen, wrenching her to her feet and pushing her up against the wall. His scarred right hand went to her neck and his left hand pulled the pistol from his belt. He pointed the barrel at the witches head and cocked the hammer. She put a light, calloused hand on his bare chest and whispered at him.

“Sleep.”

He felt his eyelids grow heavy but the magic would not work, could not work. The sleepless charm he wore would prevent him from losing consciousness under any circumstances.

“I think it’s about time we had a proper chat, Shen. Are you the witch?”

The woman’s eyes went wide as Thanquil’s will locked onto her own and forced the truth from her and she shook her head violently. “No I’m not.”

“You’re… what…”

Shen’s eyes were wet with tears but in testament to her own strength she refused to let them fall. “I’m not a witch, Arbiter. I swear to you.”

Thanquil let go of her neck and began rooting around in one of the hidden pockets of his coat but he kept his pistol trained on the woman. His hand closed around the item he was looking for and he pulled out a small green gemstone, normally dull and lightless but with Thanquil’s touch it glowed with a warm inner blaze. The gem was ensconced in a small bronze housing with a long chain attached. To the untrained eye it would look no more than an item of jewellery, a necklace suited to those of lesser wealth, but the Arbiters of the Inquisition knew better. The gemstone glowed when touched by one with the potential to wield the powers of magic.

He let the gemstone drop and caught the chain between the maimed fingers of his right hand. Without his touch to sustain it the glow of the gem ceased and it once again became dull and lifeless. He held the gem up to Shen’s head. She flinched but didn’t cower. Thanquil respected her for that. The green gem did not glow; its inner light remained well and truly dead.

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