James Wyatt: In the Claws of the Tiger

Janik was so focused on making his way through the crowds in the mooring tower that he didn’t notice the knights converging on him until Mathas nudged him. They were heavily armored-“easily outrun,” in Janik’s mind-and wore the insignia of the Church of the Silver Flame beautifully engraved on their breastplates. They carried longswords at their belts and bows slung on their backs. The only visible threat in their approach was the way they moved from opposite sides to approach Janik from the right and left, narrowing his chances of escape.

Fair enough, he thought, but I won’t bolt just yet.

“Janik Martell,” one of the knights said, stepping forward and standing formally at attention. The other knight adopted a similar pose, and Janik stopped with Mathas just behind him. “Welcome to Thrane.”

“Thank you,” Janik said. “Was that a real welcome or a ‘you’re under arrest’ welcome?”

The second knight, a blond woman at least ten years younger than Janik, smiled at that, but her male companion frowned. “We are Knights of Thrane,” he said, “and we do not speak to deceive. You are an honored guest of the Cathedral, and you are most welcome.” He gave a small bow, which his still-smiling companion echoed, and Janik nodded slightly in return.

“Thank you, Knights of Thrane,” he said with a glance back at Mathas. “I apologize for appearing to question your honesty-it’s just that I was not aware the Cathedral knew of our arrival on this particular airship.”

“The knowledge and wisdom of the Keeper of the Flame admit no limitations,” the smiling woman said.

“Indeed,” the male knight replied. “If you will accompany us, we will take you to your quarters in the Cathedral.”

“Thank you.”

As the knights began to walk toward the stairs, Janik and Mathas fell into step behind them. “My friend also requires lodging,” Janik said. “Are there accommodations prepared at the Cathedral for him as well?”

“Our apologies, master,” the male knight said, looking at Mathas for the first time. “We were not informed of your coming. However,” he turned to Janik, “I’m sure you’ll find that your lodging at the Cathedral includes adequate room for your companion.”

“I do not sleep on benches,” Mathas said with only a slight smile.

“There will be no need for you to do so,” the knight replied.

“The Cathedral’s hospitality admits no limitations,” Mathas said under his breath.

Janik chuckled as the knights led the way down the mooring tower’s stairs to the street. There, a large and ornate coach waited for them, hitched to two white horses that looked prepared for a parade. The driver jumped down from his perch and opened the door when he saw them approach, holding the door as Mathas and then Janik climbed in and settled themselves on the comfortably padded seats. The female knight stood at the door. “It’s just a short ride to the Cathedral,” she said. “We’ll be on the back.” She closed the door quietly, then Janik heard the knights’ armor clanking as they climbed onto the back of the coach. Hooves clomped on cobblestones as the carriage began to bounce and roll.

“That’s strange,” Janik said, looking across the carriage at Mathas. “How would they know I was coming on this airship but not know that you were coming? At first, I thought Kelas had notified them of our departure from Aundair, but wouldn’t he have told them about you?”

“It’s more likely they have agents watching the mooring tower in Fairhaven,” Mathas said. “Or House Lyrandar sends passenger lists ahead of the airships. Why would Kelas tell them we were coming, anyway? He has no love for Thrane.”

“You’re right. I’m probably reading too much into this. They have access to the passenger lists. Looking over the list, they’d have no idea we were traveling together. A live agent in Fairhaven would have seen that.” Janik rested his head on the cushioned seat back behind him. “Politics make my head swim. I’d rather head back into the Xen’drik jungle.”

Mathas smiled. “If only we could ride in cushioned coaches through the jungle.”

“That would be a sight!” Janik laughed.

Mathas closed his eyes while Janik gazed out the window. The coach made its way down the long coastal road to one of the bridges that connected the island-city to the mainland. A low wall ran the length of the bridge, carved with reliefs depicting the religious history of Thrane. Once across the bridge, the coach wound up a steep hill toward the Cathedral.

Janik’s heart started beating faster, and he felt somehow as if he were about to step into some new, unexplored ruin in Xen’drik. Another adventure, he thought.

Still, I’d rather be walking into a crypt or ruin than this, he mused. That kind of adventure I know how to handle.

The carriage came to a halt. Mathas shifted in his seat and Janik looked anxiously out both windows. They heard the Knights of Thrane step off the back of the carriage, then the female knight opened the carriage door.

“Welcome to the Cathedral of the Silver Flame,” she said formally. Then she smiled again, looking Janik in the eye. “And no, you’re still not under arrest.”

Behind her, Janik could see the male knight’s disapproving frown. He returned the woman’s smile as she helped him step down from the carriage. Mathas followed him out, and the male knight stepped toward the front doors of the Cathedral. The two friends paused, staring up at the soaring bulwarks and reaching towers of the Cathedral.

“Quite impressive,” Mathas said to the smiling knight beside him. “It lifts the spirit, does it not?”

“It does stir the blood,” she replied. “Come. I’ll show you to your accommodations. You will be staying in the old palace.” She gestured toward a magnificent edifice to the left of the Cathedral.

The male knight gestured toward the Cathedral and spoke to Janik. “And I will take you directly to your audience,” he said. “The Keeper of the Flame awaits.”

The knight began walking and Janik followed.

“Well, good luck, Janik,” Mathas said, but the words barely registered in Janik’s rushing thoughts.

“All right,” he said to the knight. “Let’s get this over with, then.” Only when the ornate silver doors of the Cathedral closed behind him did he look back.

The knight led Janik up a set of stairs into one of the towers that flanked the Cathedral’s spacious narthex. They went up only a single flight, though Janik could see many more landings above them, and through a door to a sumptuous sitting room. Dominating the far wall, a tapestry gleaming with silver thread depicted the paladin Tira Miron joining with the Silver Flame to prevent the escape of a mighty demon from Khyber. A fire raged in a hearth below the tapestry. Half a dozen cushioned chairs were arrayed facing the fireplace, and the knight swept his arm across the room.

“Please make yourself comfortable. I shall return in a moment.” The knight went out a narrow door in the left wall, and Janik started to pace.

His mind was not on the Keeper of the Silver Flame or on the content of his impending meeting. Rather, a series of images of Dania filled his mind, threatening to consume him with guilt. He recalled the way she used to look at him when he’d done something particularly well, whether it was maneuvering to catch a troll in a gout of flame or successfully leading the expedition to Mel-Aqat. For years he had denied that Dania had any romantic feelings for him. He had loved Maija with all his heart, and treated Dania as another great friend, just like Mathas. When he had taken comfort in her arms after Mel-Aqat and then abandoned her in Sharn, he had not just betrayed the love she had harbored for him all those years-he had betrayed their friendship as well. What kind of reception could he expect from her? Why had she contacted him at all?