David Dalglish: Clash of Faiths

“Ever so helpful, Griff.”

“It’s Adam.”

“Sorry, can’t see your scars too well.”

It seemed like Adam grinned, but then a sharp pain struck Jerico’s throat. He collapsed to one knee and coughed.

“Take his armor,” Kaide ordered as Jerico fought to regain his breath. “I don’t want it turning a blade should we need to subdue him.”

Jerico tensed, and he almost resisted. In the end, he knew it was pointless. Half-blind, hungry, and disorientated, he would prove no challenge. Lifting his arms, he let Adam tug at the straps, pulling his armor off.

“Careful,” he said. “You’ll dent it.”

“It seems dented enough by your own travels,” Kaide said as the breastplate thudded to the dirt. “You should feel better not carrying that around, anyway. Now follow me.”

Jerico’s sight was finally coming around, and he glanced about the forest dwellings. He saw the light of fires burning in several homes, and a few more outside in a ring. The sound of laughter met his ears, so he figured it couldn’t be too late into the night. The amount of people he heard and saw surprised him. At least a hundred formed this motley bunch.

“Did something happen to Sandra?” he asked as they returned to where the woman had been kept.

“Just be quiet,” Kaide insisted. He pulled the band from his hair, releasing the ponytail. Shaking his hair free, he sighed and put a hand on the door. “Behave yourself, and respond kindly. Sandra has woken, and she wishes to thank you.”

He pushed it open, then gestured for Jerico to enter. As he did, Kaide followed and shut the door behind them.

Already Sandra looked worlds better. Her arm was bandaged, its linen clean. She smiled at their entrance, confirming Jerico’s earlier suspicion about her beauty. Her room was lit by a fireplace, but it had dwindled down, allowing a chill to enter. Kaide took to tending it, as if he wanted no part of the proceedings.

“Are you the paladin?” Sandra asked. Her voice was thick with the northern accent, and it masked how tired she clearly was. Jerico nodded, trying to make sense of things. He’d been dragged from a windowless prison to be thanked? Would he be sent back afterward? Hardly seemed an appropriate reward, but Kaide had further plans for him, that was obvious. Would Sandra know any of it? No, of course not. She’d been out at the time of his capture, and he had a feeling her brother had not filled her in.

“I am,” Jerico said, bowing.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling. She sat up, tugging her blanket so it remained wrapped tight about her. “I doubt I’m worthy of such a noble gesture, though.”

“I bow to all beautiful women,” Jerico said, glancing at Kaide. Sure enough, he was glaring death, which made it all worthwhile.

If Sandra was flattered, she kept it in check.

“If you say. Please, sit by my bed. None of the men here, my brother included, are much use for conversation. Too dull, too focused. They haven’t seen the world. Have you?”

“I think you should get some rest,” Kaide interrupted. “The hour’s late, and-”

“I have slept for days,” Sandra said, glaring. “Please, give us our privacy. Or do you think a paladin of Ashhur will murder me in cold blood the same day he saved my life?”

Jerico found himself liking the woman more and more.

“So be it,” Kaide said, nearly growling with rage. He flung another log into the fire, not caring that he scattered it. Jerico waited until he left, chuckled, and then took Kaide’s place at getting it roaring.

“Don’t judge him too harshly,” she said. “He has a temper is all.”

“I don’t think that’s all,” Jerico said, gently pushing the errant log aside so he could layer on more kindling.

“I take it he blindfolded you before bringing you here?”

Jerico laughed.

“If you consider being dragged here unconscious in a net as blindfolded, then yes, I was.”

Sandra fell silent, and Jerico berated himself for his sharp tongue. It certainly wasn’t her fault. The fire finally going strong, he stood and closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth. His room had felt like ice when he’d been awoken. Dread filled his stomach as he thought of the coming night, without blankets or a fire.

“He’s keeping you in the windowless room, isn’t he?” she asked quietly.

“He is.”

“No fire, no blankets, and no bed?”

Jerico looked her in the eye.

“You seem familiar with your brother’s accommodations. I hope those who came before me all deserved the same treatment.”

Her neck flushed red.

“That was uncalled for,” she said. “I wished to thank you, and hear of the Citadel, the waters of the Gihon, and the peoples in the lands beyond Mordan. Yet you’d call me a jailor, instead?”

Jerico felt petty, but he was tired, grumpy, and unable to stop himself.

“You’re sister to one. And forgive my lack of tales, for my prison’s not as comfortable as yours, Sandra.”

She sat erect in her bed, her jaw trembling with anger.

“Get out,” she said.

Jerico rolled his eyes. There were a million ways he could have handled the situation better, but of course, he’d screwed them all up.

“Please, I’m sorry, it’s just…”

“I said out. Kaide!”

The door opened so fast Jerico wondered if the man had been pressing his ear against the other side. He held his dirks in hand, and seemed disappointed that he had no reason to use them.

“Let’s go,” he said, grabbing Jerico’s arm and pulling. “Back to your room.”

Jerico bowed once more to Sandra and then allowed himself to be led back to his prison. When inside, he shivered against the wall, enveloped once more in darkness. He tried to sleep, but could not. Even with how slow time crawled, it was not long before the door burst open.

“Yes?” Jerico asked.

“Off your ass,” Adam said. “Come on, now, hurry!”

With a blade pressed against his back, Jerico was pushed back into the night and toward another building. The door was opened, and they shoved him inside. Within was a bed, a fireplace, and a slender window too small for him to crawl through.

“Courtesy of the woman,” Adam said, shutting the door. He heard the sound of locking, then whistling as Adam wandered away. Jerico checked the bed for lice or fleas, and found none. Impressive.

“Well, Jerico,” the paladin said, finding it disturbingly easy to talk to himself given his lack of company. “It looks like you’re not that terrible at talking to women after all.”

He knew that was false, of course, but it was nice to pretend otherwise.

*

The following day passed full of tedium and boredom. Jerico ate his meals when they were brought to him, and filled the rest of his hours with exercise and prayer. He wanted both his muscles and his faith sharp should any chance at escape present itself. So far his captors didn’t seem to have any intention to kill him, so he remained patient. It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go, not with dark priests and paladins scouring the North.

“There’s a disturbing thought,” Jerico muttered, thinking of Kaide selling him to someone from the Stronghold for a nice sack of gold. Or would he be worth only silver? Questions he’d never get adequate answers to. His personal pride wanted Karak’s servants hurling entire treasuries at people to bring him down, but that seemed unreasonable. Maybe just a few thousand gold. That’d at least be something worth bragging about.

Not that he had anyone to brag to. Adam and Griff alternated guard duty, broken up by the occasional third man named Barry. An impatient and ill-tempered man, Barry was actually the worst of the three. The twins, as he’d discovered, would at least joke around, however poorly, when he spoke to them through the hole in his door. Barry only shouted for him to shut up.