Midnight Quest (28 page)

“Check or help?” he retorted dryly.

“Are you teasing a woman with a knife in her hand?” she parried dryly, lifting the knife and giving it a small wave in the air.

“Uh…no?”

“Good answer.”

Chapter Nineteen

Ian Kaelberer turned out to be a very kind man with a steady personality. He had retired early from being a guardsman, so he wasn’t as ancient as Jewel expected him to be. He had, in fact, retired early to take over the family farm for his ailing father. Now, without any qualms, he handed the farm over to his oldest son to run.

They stayed for three days at the farmhouse while Rialt and Chizeld taught him everything they could. Jewel listened in, and sometimes chimed in with some personal experiences, but mostly she puttered around the house and helped out where she could. She felt very blessed to stay in the same place for three consecutive days. Being constantly exposed to new environments had overextended her brain, so staying in a single house gave her a much needed break.

She did take a few hours to go and visit the nearest Temple of Learning as the God of Learning, Broeske, was the god for Veris. But even though she stayed for an hour within the temple’s prayer room she didn’t get a response. The size of this temple was small, true, but size had nothing to do with it. Sacred ground was sacred ground. Jewel had heard rumors that Broeske didn’t really pay attention on a daily basis to his people. After having the Guardian of the Barrier call repeatedly for his attention for an hour without getting a response, Jewel could believe it.

Resigned to having to try again later, she finally gave up and went back to the house.

After three days, they left and went back on course to find Veris’s crystal.

Chizeld knew the area they travelled in and so counseled that they stay on the flats instead of traveling into the Darwall Mountains. According to the Verisian, the capitol city of Rounsefell sat at the curve of the mountain. The city had, over time, started to spread out over Darwall’s slopes, but the main part of it still rested on the valley floor. They would not save any time by traveling through the mountains.

Jewel harbored secret relief at this information. She detested forests with a passion for one simple reason—she had no way to predict where all the trees were. Not to mention their roots. Or deadfall, for that matter. Actually,
everything
about a forest had a chaotic nature to it. Disorganized environments were the bane of her existence. No, give her a nice, flat patch of ground any day.

It took an uneventful two days to reach the outskirts of Rounsefell. As they approached the east gates, a loud voice boomed out, “Everyone dismount! No one may ride through the gates! Dismount!”

Jewel, puzzled, cocked her head. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. Why would they want us to dismount?”

“Security precaution,” Sarvell answered promptly from behind her. Creaking leather accompanied his words as he dismounted. “Whenever there are smugglers or criminals that they’re looking for, they make everyone dismount. It’s harder to break into or out of the city if you’re on foot.”

Now that made sense. Shrugging, she threw a leg over and slid cautiously to the ground. Her feet were barely touching earth when Bort pressed his head into her hand. Absently scratching behind his ears, she turned her head this way and that, trying to get a better sense of the situation. She heard a lot of people muttering to each other, hooves clopping against the packed dirt of the road, and the jangling of harnesses. This thoroughfare had a considerable amount of traffic on it. Dust seemed to be constantly thrown up in the air, as she could taste it on her tongue and feel it against her skin. A hot bath tonight would not be amiss.

Rialt’s heavy stride could barely be discerned from all of the other foot traffic around her. But she sensed his approach and held out the reins silently for him to take. He did so without a word, taking over leading her mare. “How long is the line?” she asked in concern.

“Long,” he sighed. “We will do well to find an inn afore the sun deserts us.”

“Guards are processing people through quickly,” Chizeld disagreed from a little further ahead. “Might make it through before sunset.”

“Let’s hope so,” Sarvell said on a heavy sigh.

Hmmm. Jewel felt like she was missing the obvious, an instinctive feeling more than anything. She turned this way and that, senses stretched to their limit, trying to place it. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem obvious, but more like something that lingered just off to the side of her perceptions…
oh
. “I think,” she said slowly, “I think I feel Veris’s crystal.”

The gravel under Rialt’s boots crunched as he spun quickly about, his hand landing on her shoulder. “You sure?”

“Not quite,” she admitted. “I think it’s there,” she lifted a hand and pointed in front of her, “but it’s so faint, I’m not sure if it’s my imagination or not.”

Without a word, he led her off the road and several feet ahead. “What about now?”

As insignificant as the distance was, just being that little bit closer helped. She had a firmer mental grip on it now.

“It’s there. Probably a good twenty miles away, considering how faint it is, but I feel it.”

“Phew,” Sarvell let out a sound of relief from somewhere behind her. “At least now we don’t have to go hunting through all of those records to find it.”

“Oh, you’re here!” an excited, high-pitched female voice called from some distance away.

“Veris High Priestess…?” Chizeld stated slowly, as if disbelieving his own eyes.

“Where?” Sarvell demanded.

“There.”

Rialt and Sarvell both choked at the same time. Jewel, turned in the direction of the voice, sensed that another priestess was coming their direction. Since they’d been searching for the other woman for nearly three weeks now, her guards should be relieved instead of…perturbed? “Rialt, is something wrong?”

“Well, lass, it just be…” he trailed off on an inarticulate groan.

“She can’t possibly be the new priestess,” Sarvell stated definitively only to add uncertainly, “Can she?”

“Is,” Chizeld affirmed shortly. “Not expected.”

“No, she be no what I had in mind,” Rialt grumbled.

Jewel took in a breath and reminded herself to be patient. “
What’s
unexpected?”

“She has the looks of a flibbertigibbet, that one,” Rialt explained, still in that disgruntled tone as if his view on the universe had taken an abrupt left turn.

“She’s acting like one too, running like that,” Sarvell added.

Jewel raised a finger in the air. “Can I get a more accurate description from someone?”

“Buxom figure, wavy blond hair and tanned skin,” Chizeld responded promptly. “In a frilly dress. Looks like a spoiled rich girl.”

Well, looks must be deceiving then because Elahandra would never call a spoiled girl to be the priestess of a clan. Part of the advantage to being blind was that Jewel could never be fooled by someone’s appearance and misjudge them from that.

The half-running footsteps were now much closer. The wearer must’ve been wearing heels of some sort to make that half-staccato sound. Jewel’s head instinctively cocked when she realized that the other person’s pace hadn’t slowed even though she had to be almost right on top of her.

An armful of excited female abruptly grabbed Jewel around the shoulders and proceeded to squeeze the life out of her.

“You’re here!” she announced happily right into Jewel’s ear. A strong whiff of rose petals swept past Jewel’s nose. “I’m so glad. I’ve been afraid for
weeks
you wouldn’t make it. But Elahandra didn’t mention you had such handsome men with you. Oh, and a puppy!”

As abruptly as she had arrived, she detached herself and dropped to the ground. Before Jewel could issue a coherent warning about Bortonor, she heard the other girl throw her arms around the dog.

“Oh, aren’t you the most handsome,
sweetest
thing!” she cooed.

Jewel froze in astonishment when Bortonor’s tail started hitting the back of her thighs in a happy rhythm. Never, in all the time she had been with him, had he liked
anyone
at first sight. “Um, that’s Bortonor.”

“Bortonor, is it? You’re such a good dog, yes you
are
.”

The tail thumps, if possible, started going even faster. In fact, they were hard enough to upset Jewel’s balance. She retreated two steps to the side to avoid being knocked flat. A little unbalanced by this unorthodox meeting, she ventured, “I’m Jewel Jomadd and you are…?”

“Chantel Moltabon,” the other woman responded promptly. “I’m actually glad you arrived when you did. I’ve been out of town with Daddy the past few weeks at a
very
boring formal dinner in Zarraga. I only got back this morning. Now, who are your…I assume you’re guards?”

“We are,” Sarvell answered neutrally. “I’m Sarvell Sorpan, this is Rialt Axheimer and Chizeld Lorin.”

“I am very pleased to meet you, gentlemen. You look road weary. Why don’t you come down to the mansion and rest up before we go treasure hunting?”

“Mansion?” Chizeld asked in a neutral voice that rivaled Sarvell’s.

“Why yes,” she responded in an air-headed, vapid way. “I’m the mayor’s daughter.”

Much is now explained
, Jewel couldn’t help but think. No wonder she had that air of a spoiled little girl—that’s how she had been raised. It also explained the very cultured speech patterns (which varied from the typical Verisian accent) and the smell of expensive perfume on her skin. Despite herself, Jewel started to find the whole situation amusing. With a half-smile tugging at her mouth, she said, “Why yes, Chantel, we’d love to rest a bit before treasure hunting.”

~*~*~*~

With Chantel leading the way through the gates, the guards let them pass without a word. They didn’t speak much—the noise from the pedestrians and street vendors prevented any conversation that lasted more than two sentences. Jewel took many deep breaths and kept her ears open. This city, or at least this section of the city, didn’t have anything to do with craftsman. The air had a slightly damp feel to it and floral scents seemed to be everywhere.

She had decided to forgo riding her mare into the city and simply mounted up with Rialt. Since she had a pair of eyes near her, she turned and asked, “Why do I smell so many flowers?”

“We be surrounded by ‘em, that be why,” he responded dryly. “Streets are lined with planters and the like.”

That explained the strength of the scents, then. “I’m hearing many accents as well.”

“Lots of merchants and the like.” Rialt’s chest moved upwards in a slight shift, as if he had just shrugged his shoulders. “Rounsefell be a trader’s city. Shipp be no more than a two day’s travel north, and the Honorvar River winds its way near here. Then there be the traffic from Ronin, coming over the Ziehr Pass, with all of their goods.”

Three different direct sources for trade, in other words. Well, four, if you included nearby Bryn. Wheelock, as she well knew, took only two days to travel to from here. No wonder she heard so many different accents and languages around her.

“Ho, we must be getting close. I see a mighty large mansion yonder.”

Jewel imagined that the mayor of a trader’s city could afford a very luxurious place to live. She had no doubt they were heading for a mansion.

They travelled on in silence for several more minutes at a moderate walk. Jewel didn’t need anyone to tell her when they entered the mayor’s courtyard—the difference was like night and day. The noisy din of the streets faded to a background murmur within moments of a gate rattling open.

“Welcome, Miss Chantel,” a tenor voice called out. “Forgive me, were we expecting guests?”

“Oh don’t worry, Piers, I didn’t tell you about them,” Chantel responded airily. “In fact, I didn’t know they were even going to arrive until today.”

Yes, and just how
had
she known? Jewel hadn’t thought to question it before but now she did wonder. Had Chantel been on the lookout like Clari had? Or had Elahandra given her new priestess a nudge and a hint?

“I
do
need rooms prepared for everyone though,” Chantel continued as if she weren’t just handing the man a great deal of work. “Everyone, this is Piers. He runs the house. If you need anything, just ask him, and he’ll get it for you.”

Piers, no doubt used to impossible demands, simply responded with, “I will see to the rooms. Miss Chantel, your father is looking for you. He’s in his study.”

“Oh excellent, I need to speak with him.”

The horses stopped, so Jewel assumed they were near to the house at this point. Rialt shifted her slightly, giving his arm as a support so that she could slide down. She started to, only to be quickly caught by someone else who lifted her the rest of the way. “Thank you.”

“Welcome,” Chizeld responded simply.

“Now don’t worry about the horses and the luggage,” Chantel directed from somewhere up ahead. “The servants will take care of it. Just follow me. We need to go speak with Daddy.”

Jewel tucked her hand in the crook of Chizeld’s elbow, her other hand on top of Bortonor’s head. As they walked forward, she decided she’d better ask some questions before she embarrassed herself. “Chantel, has your father been mayor long?”

“Oh yes, ever since I was a child. Let’s see…I think it’s been fifteen years now. The people just love him, so he keeps getting re-appointed.”

Alright, so she would be speaking with a man who was an old hand at politics. Good. Next question. “Did you tell him about your calling?”

“Days ago, don’t worry,” Chantel responded on a soft giggle. “He’s quite proud of me, almost fit to be tied, really. He’s sworn that as soon as I tell him what I need, he’ll help re-establish the Order here.”

Thank the gods for small favors. At least Jewel didn’t have to worry about sending help to this corner of Evard. “Did you at least warn him that you were expecting us?”

“Well, I would have, but I couldn’t find him this morning. Don’t worry, though, Daddy loves surprises.”