Midnight Quest (16 page)

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Authors: Honor Raconteur

Tags: #female protagonist, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Fiction, #Young Adult, #YA, #gods

BOOK: Midnight Quest
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“Well, yes and no,” Sarvell answered from her left side.  “We’re entering foothills. They’re not particularly high, not in comparison to the mountains we’ve been passing, but the initial approach is a bit steep.”

That explained the change in pace. The road apparently had more rocks to it as well as she could hear them clatter as they were disturbed by the horse’s hooves. She couldn’t smell as much vegetation here, just grass. Apparently not much grew on the foothills.

Once they reached the top of the hill, the road meandered up and down and in gentle curves. The men chose not to assume their fast trot from before, but stay at a quick walk. It gave Jewel an opportunity to ask questions and learn more about the men she traveled with. She had just started to wheedle some family stories from Sarvell when Bortonor abruptly stopped and let out a bark of warning.

Rialt immediately reined to a stop and twisted in the saddle with a creak of leather. His left arm came around Jewel’s waist to hold her in place as he shifted about. “Rider coming up behind us,” he reported. “Coming fast, too. Courier, mayhap?”

“For what?” Sarvell protested. “There’s nothing to report
on
in this area of the country. Not even the Daath are interested in this part of Ramath.”

“Eh, it be strange,” Rialt agreed in a slow, contemplative tone of voice. “Let us pull off a bit and see if he be interested in us.”

Jewel sat taut in the curve of Rialt’s arm, ears trained on the sound of rapid hoof beats coming this direction. The tempo of the horse changed a bit, probably as it crested the slope, but then it slowed altogether. So the rider had seen them? “Rialt, where’s Bort?”

“Standing point, he be,” Rialt answered in a quiet rumble near her temple. “The rider seems intent on coming to see us. He be heading straight here.”

Stones and pebbles clattered and shifted as the rider came closer. Several feet from them, Bort let out a warning growl and the horse abruptly stopped.

“Do not intend harm,” the rider said to them calmly, his tenor voice carrying easily in the still air. “Chizeld Lorin, Sanhan of the Red Guard, at Priestess Jomadd’s service.”

Oh! This must be the man that Elahandra said was coming to meet up with them. Jewel pushed Rialt’s protective arm aside and then used it to lever herself off the saddle and to the ground. “I am Jewel Jomadd. Sanhan Lorin, I am glad you finally caught up with us! Elahandra said that you were coming. Bort, stop growling at the man. He’s an ally.”

Bort gave a discontented wuff before padding back to her and shoving his head under her arm. He pressed his body closely to her side, making it clear that he wasn’t budging until this strange man went away.

Sounds of leather creaking and the jangle of harnesses repeated around her in quick succession as everyone dismounted.

“Very glad to see Priestess safe,” Chizeld Lorin said with transparent sincerity as he approached her. “Did not know of danger until Elahandra awoke in the middle of the night.”

“Eh, she did that with all of us,” Rialt grumbled to no one in particular.

Jewel faced in the direction she heard him and gave him a smile. “Well, I’m glad that I had at least one guard that is trustworthy.” A guard from Veris, from the sound of it. Only the Verisians had that strange speech pattern. His accent was thicker than she’d ever heard, so he must be from the very heart of the clan’s territory. To have a Verisian guard wasn’t strange. The first armsman for the Thornock high priestess had been Verisian. To this day, the largest training facility and the main headquarters for the Red Guard was in Rounsefell, Veris. “Sanhan, the man behind me is Rialt Axheimer from Ramath. The one standing at my right is Sarvell Sorpan from Bryn. My furry companion who is probably glaring at you is Bortonor. He is a gift from Elahandra and very new to this company. Do not be surprised if it takes a few days for him to warm up to you.”

“Greetings,” Chizeld offered.

“We had best move,” Rialt said in a voice that was distinctly grumpy. “If this whelp can find us, others can.”

“Ah, no, sincerely doubt that,” Chizeld disagreed with a strange inflection.

“Oh?” Rialt challenged openly. “Be you such a marvelous tracker?”

“Well, fair enough, but didn’t find by tracking. Did that for a week and didn’t get anywhere.”

“So how did you find us?” Jewel queried in blatant curiosity.

“Actually broke down and prayed this morning that Elahandra would tell location,” he admitted a little sheepishly.

“Oooh,” Jewel responded teasingly. “A man that knows how to ask for directions. Impressive.”

Chizeld asked slowly, “Worried about pursuit?”

“How much did Elahandra tell you?” Sarvell asked, sounding as if he already knew the answer.

“Not much,” Chizeld answered frankly. “Priestess in trouble. Need to go immediately. Two other men called to help. That’s it.”

“Tell you what, Lorin,” Sarvell offered in a wry tone, “While we ride, why don’t I fill you in?”

 

Chapter Eleven

Chizeld Lorin turned out to be an interesting man.

Jewel asked quite a few questions of him as they rode after Sarvell’s briefing of the situation. He was a third generation guardsman for the Order, and the only son of the Guard’s previous commander. He’d never been around someone that was blind before, and so asked a great many questions about her. Jewel liked his frankness and answered any question he posed. When they stopped and made camp for the night, he pitched in readily with a competent air that quietly stated he knew what he was doing.

 He even encouraged her to see him with her hands, which she appreciated as she knew that doing so made most people uncomfortable. When she traced his body with her hands, she felt a strong chest and arms that could rival Sarvell’s. He sported bristle along his jawline, but when she asked, he told her that he preferred to be clean shaven. With his pursuit of her, he hadn’t taken the time to shave in recent days. He had hair cut to military shortness, a broad forehead and a nose that had to have been broken at least three times to attain
that
shape.

Bortonor was glued to her side the entire time she examined Chizeld, but the guardsman didn’t seem to mind the dog’s suspicions. Like Sarvell, he seemed to have an easy temperament. But when he heard everything that had happened to Jewel, he seethed with rage.

“Did not know of trouble,” he told her between gritted teeth. “Only knew that commander said had orders to return home. Assumed orders came from Priestess. Priestess, after all, is only one to have authority to order Guard to do
anything
.”

“It might have been from the high priestess,” Jewel responded on a long sigh. She retreated a few steps to her bedroll and sat down on it heavily. “By the time I inherited the position, the Guard was already gone. I had no means of contacting you either. They blocked every attempt I made.”

“Need to investigate this,” Chizeld determined.

“Yes, I’d say you do,” Sarvell agreed from his place near the cook fire. “But we can do that on the way to Veris’s crystal. For now, let’s focus on Bryn’s. Jewel, how close do you think we are?”

“Close,” she answered, turning toward the crystal instinctively. “I’d say…another two days of riding, more or less.”

“Elahandra
is
calling more high priestesses.” Chizeld said it as if he meant it to be a statement, but an edge of doubt crept in.

Jewel’s brows drew together in confusion. “Why would she need to? I can charge the crystals.”

“Uhhhh…”

At his uncertain pause, her frown deepened. “Can’t I? Chizeld, what do you know that I don’t?”

“Family has been guarding high priestesses for three generations,” he told her with slow, careful words. “Have much lore and stories about crystals because of that. A lone priestess
can
charge crystal without help, that is true. It would take years to do so. Charging crystal is very draining. Previous priestess that great-grandfather guarded said charging crystal was not unlike trying to strangle electric eel. In the past, priestess always chose to charge crystal weekly with sister-priestesses for that reason.”

The other occupants of the camp were obviously listening in, as Sarvell darkly stated, “Because it was easier to maintain the energy than to let it drain away and then recharge it.”

“Precisely,” Chizeld confirmed. “With four crystals completely drained…Priestess, there is no way this can be done alone.”

Jewel determined right then and there to pick this man’s brain. She’d had tomes of books and scrolls read to her straight from the Order’s library throughout her life and yet she had just learned more about the crystal’s workings from this man in only five minutes. She blew out a long breath and sat back, thinking.
Elahandra, you knew about this from the beginning.

“Of course,”
her goddess answered dryly.

So can I assume that you’ve been searching for other high priestesses?

“You certainly may. I’m afraid that I couldn’t find four worthy young women that would be right for this. But I’ve found three. One of them is here in Bryn and she is even now waiting to meet you.”

This was so typical of Elahandra, to give her the information she needed only after she knew enough to ask the question.
She will be Bryn’s high priestess then?

“Yes. Her name is Clarion Hahn. You’ll quite like her, Jewel. She has spunk.”

She’d better. Otherwise she’d never be able to deal with the position of high priestess. Especially since the Order in this area of the country had long since lapsed into nothing more than an abandoned building.

“Don’t worry,
” Elahandra assured her in a gentle tone. “
You won’t be doing this alone. I never intended you to.”

Thank you.
Jewel let out a sigh when her goddess’s presence disappeared. “Apparently we’re three steps behind, gentlemen. Elahandra has already chosen the next priestess candidates. The High Priestess of Bryn is coming even now to meet us. Her name is Clarion Hahn.”

“Do you know her, Sarvell?”

“Do you realize how big this clan is, Rialt?” Sarvell responded, voice heavy with exasperation. “No, I don’t know her. The Hahn name is familiar, though. We trade with that family for furs every winter. She’s probably a daughter of the family.”

“All Elahandra told me is that she has spunk.” Jewel shook her head. Typical. They didn’t really have much in the way of information. “Well, regardless, she will meet us at the crystal.”

~*~*~*~

Jewel felt very lethargic the next morning, waking with some difficulty. Her mind felt like it drifted through some kind of haze. Bortonor had snuggled himself into her bedroll at some point in the night (as he was wont to do) so she felt nice and toasty.

“Three times,” Chizeld said with a note of disbelief. “On this long trip.”

“Three times,” Sarvell confirmed although he sounded on the verge of laughter. “And once it was only because of a cover story. You can see why I’m jumping to conclusions.”

Three times? What were they talking about? Jewel instinctively lay still, acting as if she were asleep. She’d been taught from an early age never to eavesdrop, but at the same time…

Chizeld stated slowly, “Priestess
is
the kind of woman that draws out a man’s protective instincts.”

“No doubt of it,” Sarvell agreed readily. “You should have seen me after I’d just met her. But that eased when I realized just how capable she is. Rialt’s just got stronger. You think the dog is bad? Try crossing
him
.”

Oh. They were talking about her. And Rialt. He must’ve been down in that little creek far from the camp if they felt safe enough to talk about him. She didn’t hear him anywhere nearby.

“The duty falls to the Sanhan of the Guard to protect the priestess.”

“Good luck convincing
him
of that.” Sarvell clearly put that possibility somewhere near zero, along with the chances of money growing on trees. “It wasn’t personal, not at first. She’s the first priestess to stand against Belthain and their agendas to protect Ramath. I think if she’d been a troll, he’d still guard her because of that alone. But you’ve seen for yourself what she’s like. Now, for him, it’s very personal. Gostrum’s right hand, but truth is, for
me
it’s personal.”

“High Priestess should have a full complement of guards around her.” Chizeld came mightily close to a whine saying this.

“It’s not going to happen, not until Elahandra has vetted every single one of them,” Sarvell informed him bluntly. “And Jewel certainly isn’t going to ride with you, not until Rialt
and
Bortonor trust you. You might as well get used to that right now because I doubt it’s going to change in the next few weeks.”

What a fascinating conversation. Jewel had assumed that at some point the men had sat down and worked out a plan of action to protect her. Her riding with Rialt every time had been some sort of safety protocol, or so she’d thought. But apparently she’d thought wrong.

Should she ask Rialt if Sarvell was right? Somehow that seemed the wrong tack to her. Rialt had been consistently better at showing how he felt about things rather than speaking of it. Perhaps it would be wiser for her to start paying better attention to her companions and not focusing as much on what they said.

Rialt’s long, heavy stride coming back into camp abruptly ended the conversation, somewhat to Jewel’s regret. A saddlebag thumped heavily to the hard packed earth as Rialt asked, “What, she’s still abed?”

“Neither of us are brave enough to reach over Bortonor to wake her up,” Sarvell drawled. “Since we know that he won’t take off
your
hand, why don’t you do the honors?”

Rialt gave a deep chuckle but didn’t deny it. The ground crunched under his feet as he came and knelt down next to her. Beside her, Bortonor abruptly stiffened at the other man’s proximity, but did not make any noise. He had indeed come to a grudging truce with Rialt. A hard but warm hand landed lightly on her shoulder. “Wake now, lass. Yon road beckons, and we had best be about it.”

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