Terry Simpson - Etchings of Power

Bowing to the painting, Irmina issued a prayer. When she finished, she turned to Jaecar. “You can rest the children on the bed.”

Jaecar nodded and spoke to his wife. Her shoulders relaxed, and she eased over to the wide bed with its thick mattress and lay Blas upon the covers. Jaecar rested Kass next to her. Both children were sound asleep.

Irmina flopped down onto her cushioned chair and closed her eyes, the effects of the long, trying day settling on her. When she opened them, both Jaecar and Melina stood next to the bed studying her. Irmina gestured to the chairs. “Take a seat.” The couple complied.

A few moments later, a knock sounded on the door.

“Come in,” Irmina said.

Knight Ormand, a heavyset man with a thick mustache and beard entered. His forehead furrowed until his bushy eyebrows almost touched as he took in Jaecar and Melina. Behind him came a Cadet pushing a cart laden with food. The door swung shut behind him, ushering a spicy whiff from the dishes into the room.

Ormand bowed to her with a fist placed over the crossed, double bronze swords pinned to the lapel of his scarlet jacket. “Devout Irmina, praise Ilumni for your safe return.”

“Only the light can save us from the shade,” Irmina responded.

“I see you have company, holy one.” His eyes drifted to the children on the bed, and then back to the two Ostanians.

“They’re the reason I asked for you. I need you to translate. Sit, Ormand.”

“Ah. Thank you.” Ormand tipped his head to Jaecar and his wife when he sat, and they responded in kind.

After much bowing and scraping to her, the Cadet laid out dishes and trays on the table. Scents from roasted pheasant, stewed mutton, several types of spiced rice, and sweet potatoes mingled in the air creating a mouthwatering brew. After dried rabbit and fish, Irmina’s stomach growled, and she licked her lips. The Cadet topped off the dishes with several flagons of wine and yellow gooseberry juice.

Irmina smiled wryly at the two Ostanians as their eyes lit up with each dish. They gave her an inquiring look and she indicated they could eat. She didn’t need to make the gesture twice. Soon, the two were tearing at mutton while swallowing down wine in deep gulps. So much for the Formist belief that eating meat was to give one’s self into the impurities of the flesh, which weakened the body and was thus forbidden. Irmina shook her head and nodded her thanks to the Cadet.

As she studied the two strangers, Irmina took her time eating her fill. She even gave in to the temptation of licking her fingers. When she finished she poured herself a glass of wine. The liquor was not as good as the Dorns’, but she still found it refreshing. “By the way, Ormand,” she said between sips, “did you find out anything concerning the man I inquired after?”

“Very little,” Ormand replied, his voice muffled by his chewing before he swallowed. “He’s revered as a great warrior among the Ostanians. His name is Ryne Waldron. Most became silent whenever I mentioned a giant man with tattoos or his name. It was…strange.” Ormand paused, his face reddening. “Wish I could have gotten more, holy one, a-apologies.” The man’s hands drifted to his neck, and he loosened the collar of his high-buttoned jacket. An unusual amount of sweat cast a bright sheen on his forehead.

Irmina’s brow creased at the sight of the man’s concern. Failing High Shin Jerem’s requests often came with unpleasant consequences, but their master had nothing but praise for the Knight Ormand. “No need to apologize. At least I have a full name to add to the face now. You’ve done better than I have and found out more than I could. It’s not like our master gave me much to go on when he sent me here. Well, the good news is this man here seems to know Ryne personally.” She indicated Jaecar with a dip of her head.

Ormand gave her a weak smile at her compliment and dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief he produced from inside his jacket. “Where did you meet them?”

Jaecar eye’s followed their mouths whenever they spoke. His face wore a frown.

“In the Mondros Forest. They had a fight of some kind with this man, Ryne, and his bodyguard. During the fight Ryne saved their children from several forest lapras. After they spoke Ryne ran off with his bodyguard.”

“The Mondros Forest? Most stay away from the place. Too wild. And they were there with children? You said they fought, your holiness. Where are their weapons?” Ormand leaned forward, his eyes intent on the Ostanians.

“I had them leave their knives and daggers on the dartans.” Why was Ormand curious about their weapons?

“Knives and daggers?” Ormand’s eyes narrowed. “Did they have their faces painted, holy one?”

“Yes.”

Ormand’s body stiffened, and his pudgy hand drifted toward his sword. Jaecar made a great show of placing his hands with his fingers spread wide onto the table. His eyes became slits as he watched the Dagodin.

“Cease, Ormand,” Irmina commanded. “I invited them here.” She looked at Jaecar. “You, stop.”

“B-But, Devout, they’re Alzari,” Ormand blurted out.

Irmina shrugged. “And that means what to me?”

“They’re wanted mercenaries who fight in the territorial battles among the cities here, and-”

“Are they considered enemies to the Tribunal?” Irmina asked in a soft voice as she slid her hand closer to her sword’s hilt below the tabletop.

“No, your holiness.”

“Ostania’s internal squabbles are not a concern of ours, Ormand. Please, remember we have a task. Or would you rather disappoint High Shin Jerem in pursuit of some bounty?” Irmina’s eyebrow rose.

Face paling, Ormand said, “No, Devout Irmina.”

“Good. Now, ask them who Ryne is, and why were they in the forest.” Irmina focused on the Alzari.

Ormand turned his attention to Jaecar and began to question him. With each answer, Jaecar gestured several times with his hands. Neither his golden eyes and or his facial expression changed.

“He says Ryne is a hunter. A hired killer to be exact. He’s surprised we don’t know him. Claims Ryne fought for the Tribunal in the War of the Remnants.”

Memory followed by pain flared at the war’s mention. Irmina took a breath and forced the feeling down. Why would High Shin Jerem need an assassin? That was her job. Unless he wanted to use someone who couldn’t be traced to him. But why send me to fetch him? Did Jerem also send the strange golden-haired woman? No, she doubted it. Jerem knew she worked alone. He was obsessive about maintaining comfort for those who served him.

Jaecar continued talking. With each word, Ormand leaned closer.

“He says he hid his family in the Mondros because their clanhold was destroyed.”

Irmina almost waved Ormand off. No. The best way to find information sometimes was to feign concern for the plight of those she questioned. She put on her most sympathetic face. “How? What happened?”

The conversation between Ormand and Jaecar resumed. A change came over Jaecar’s face. His eyes flickered in fear, and his pitch increased and sometimes grew soft. Tears ran down Melina’s cheeks. Ormand’s mouth hung open.

“What is it, Knight Ormand?”

“All their clanholds were destroyed, not just one,” Ormand whispered.

So some force had defeated these warriors. Irmina shrugged. Their plight was not her concern.

Ormand continued, “You’ve seen them fight, your holiness. They had six clanholds. Each occupied by eight to ten thousand warriors, each fighter as capable as these two, if not better. He says everyone in his clanhold died or was captured within an hour. He says the invaders used shadelings. He claims the army was led by Amuni’s Children.”