A Rage in the Heavens (The Paladin Trilogy Book 1) (28 page)

The old woman’s face softened. “That was finely said, Fair One. My name is Raulea, and if I can help you again, you have but to make your way back to my booth.”

* * * * *

Father Joshua was seated in the private apartments of Bishop Kal in the great Cathedral of Alston’s Fey, surrounded by all the trappings and symbols of the Church’s power and wishing sincerely he was again an unknown acolyte scrubbing the floors of his mentor’s house. There was enough food on the table to feed a dozen families for a week, the silverware alone could buy those same families all new houses, and Joshua didn’t dare guess at the value of the artwork which hung on the walls.

Seated opposite him was Bishop Kal, resplendid in white robes with his miter set casually off to the side, his bearing relaxed and informal despite his guest’s obvious tension. Kal had just given him the glorious news that his first post would be the High Pass, back among his beloved Highlanders. In fact, he was to be in charge of the mission church there with three acolytes to support him, a marvelous opportunity for a newly ordained priest and what had to be seen as a wonderful compliment to his ability. Yet Joshua found himself vaguely uncomfortable with the appointment, troubled as by a small pain he could not quite locate.

“But Eminence, I’ve only completed my third year as acolyte,” he said. “I still haven’t received all of my formal training yet. I’ve never even dispensed the sacraments without supervision.”

The Bishop smiled reassuringly. “I have every confidence in your formal skills, Joshua. More importantly, you know well they’re of limited use in your daily duties. In the parishes, a priest deals with people, not rituals. You have to be able to reach those people, to talk to them, to listen to them, to be with them through both the joyous and the trying times in their lives. At such moments, they have little use for formal lessons.”

Joshua nodded in full agreement, yet he was surprised to hear such sentiments from the Bishop. Even during his short stay at the Cathedral, Joshua had been overwhelmed by the bureaucracy and formality that permeated ever aspect of life here, a closely regimented daily routine that seemed choking after the relative freedom of the High Pass. Perhaps the Bishop, too, found the routine here stifling and was forced to endure it as part of his duty; yet Joshua couldn’t quite bring himself to believe it.

He found himself wondering suddenly how the Bishop would have dealt with the panic at the High Pass and the gleaming heretic who had stemmed it.

“But shouldn’t I be made second priest under an older supervisor?” Joshua continued. Most new priests went through two or even three years of such monitoring before being sent out on their own.

“I fear both Father Michan and Father Oldran have lost all credibility with the Highlanders after their unseemly flight from the pass,” Kal said with a sad shake of his head. “The Church needs to have its prestige re-established there, and you are the perfect candidate to achieve that.”

Joshua’s eyes narrowed, despite the aptness of the words, sensing there must be more. His mind went back to the glorious day of his investiture, the entire Congregation gathered around him, the long ritual of anointing followed by the celebration of the Great Song, all the time with the Bishop directly before him, dispensing the blessings of Mirna. Darius had been there as he had promised, standing in the front pew, heedless of the animosity from the Congregation, and Joshua had felt his respect for the man growing once again. Only once had Kal looked at Darius throughout the entire ceremony, a single glance during the Celebration of the Great Song when the rafters of the Cathedral had rung with the praise of Mirna, and Joshua had locked away in the back of his mind the memory of the complicated expression which had flashed over the Bishop’s face in that one moment.

“This is more than just credibility and more than just a reward, isn’t it, Eminence?” he guessed shrewdly, watching the older man closely. “It has something to do with the warrior, Darius.”

Kal’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“I am troubled by this Paladin, it is true,” the Bishop admitted slowly. “He does not pay proper homage to the Church, and some of his views are dangerously close to sacrilege. But how can that affect you?”

Joshua met his eyes, studying the Bishop closely, and the more he looked, the more he felt that he was staring at a mask.

“Do you think he has swayed me, Eminence?” he asked.

The man blinked, taken momentarily off guard, and Joshua read the truth in his face. He got to his feet.

“That’s the real reason, isn’t it? You think I may be contaminated by his heresy,” he said slowly. “So you’re sending me to a distant post as a kind of quarantine, to keep me isolated until you can discover the extent of the infection.”

The Bishop leaned forward. “Would I send you off with three young acolytes and no supervisor if I had such doubts about you?”

The man in the white robes seemed to be transforming, changing from a caring, compassionate priest to a cold, calculating politician right before his very eyes.

“Yes,” Joshua answered softly. “Yes, I think you would. Acolytes who have just been indoctrinated into the fundamentals might be less vulnerable to heresy than an older priest who may have developed doubts or questions of his own. And they might be more likely to report that heresy.”

The Bishop’s face darkened, and it seemed to Joshua that the mask had fallen away at last.

“You have great promise, Joshua,” Kal said quietly. “And perhaps a great future. You stand now at a crossroads, facing what may be your greatest test. Put your faith in the Church and turn away from this heretic. For he will lead you only to damnation.”

He stood quietly, staring at the man, understanding the issues at last.

Slowly, he said, “I once asked the heretic what he believed, and he refused to tell me, saying that I should seek for truth within myself. I shall heed that advice and hold it close. And if what I find there is heresy, you will have no need of spies to whisper accusations, Eminence. I shall bring you that word myself.”

He did not wait for any answer but turned and walked out the door, a dark cloud on his face and on his heart. His welcome here, his ordination, his assignment back to the High Pass, all no more than a political game, an attempt to lock away the words and deeds of the heretical Paladin. But if this man speaks only lies, he asked himself suddenly, why is it necessary to shut him away so completely?

He headed towards the wing of the cathedral where his quarters were, a hundred thoughts surging back and forth in his mind. Someone was hovering in front of him, and he looked up sharply to find one of the lay servants looking at him nervously.

“Yes?” he demanded brusquely and immediately regretted it as the man winced.

“There are two travelers who wish to speak with you, Father,” the man said apologetically. “I showed them to your quarters. Should I tell them to be gone?”

“No,” Joshua answered, feeling guilty for his abrupt manner. He touched the man’s arm reassuringly. “Thank you. I’ll speak to them.”

He walked down the corridor to his quarters and opened the door to the small sitting room where he could entertain guests in private. Two young people were waiting there, both rising to their feet at his entrance, a tall handsome young man dressed in woodsman’s green, and a young woman with long golden hair and the most beautiful face Joshua had ever seen. It was so striking that it took Joshua a moment to realize he had seen those features somewhere before.

“Father Joshua?” the woman asked cautiously.

He smiled in answer. “Yes. Please, take your seats.” The two reseated themselves on the cushioned chairs and Joshua joined them.

“And what service might I be to you?” he asked.

“My name is Shannon. This is my friend Jhan.” The men exchanged nods. “We understand that you arrived several days ago with a warrior named Darius. We are trying to reach him.”

“And you are his Daughter,” Joshua finished for her, smiling as he now recognized her features. “I can see him clearly in you.”

Shannon nodded and smiled in turn. “We were hoping you might know where he has gone. Our only information is that he headed off eastward, yesterday or the day before.”

“The day before,” Joshua said, and he watched their expressions sink. He could almost feel the long miles that lay behind them. “He was bound for a distant castle called Llan Praetor in the Eastern Arm of the Mountains of the Winds. That is said to be the home of Malcolm the Magnificent, perhaps the greatest wizard in all the land.”

“A wizard?” repeated Shannon dubiously. “Why would he go in search of a wizard?”

Joshua hesitated for a moment, his mind still thinking of Darius as an enemy, his heart uncertain. But the simple honesty of the woman’s blue eyes freed his tongue.

“He has need of information,” he answered finally. “The Council of the Lords of the Southlands will meet in three days’ time at Duke’s Hall to decide what action to take against the Silver Horde. I think your father is seeking a means to silence the nay-sayers and move the Dukes to gather their armies.”

The two young people exchanged glances, Joshua watching them closely. The boy seemed protective, the girl free-willed and independent, but they were very clearly a team, blending their differences into strengths. Joshua felt a quick surge of friendship towards these two young people, both very much his own age who must have come through trials similar to his own, but he sensed no matching spark in them. The yellow robes, of course. I’m a priest, and they grew up holding a heretic in the place of honor.

“We were told my Father had an encounter with a rock goblins,” Shannon said unexpectedly. “Is that true?”

Joshua’s eyes rose slightly, but he said, “It seems a rock goblin in disguise did indeed come among us. Though what his purpose might have been, no one is quite sure.”

Shannon leaned forward and said slowly, “We may have important information, though what it means, I cannot be sure. We have reason to suspect that an army of rock-goblins may be accompanying Regnar’s forces. So you can understand our alarm when we heard of the rock-goblin who came openly into the city, apparently as an emissary or an ambassador. It could only have come from Regnar.”

Joshua sat up in his chair, alarms going off in his head. If Regnar’s force contained a contingent of rock-goblins, it was far larger than anyone believed. But far worse were the implications of an ambassador from Regnar being sent to the Fey, an embassy to meet with…who?

And the Council of Lords was only three days off.

He thought for a moment who he should inform, who he would have to convince, prompt, or provoke to action, his mind brushing over Bishop Kal, the authorities in Alston’s Fey, even those who had direct access to the Dukes. He knew instinctively that the word of a young priest without supporting evidence would carry little weight

“I have to warn my superiors,” Joshua said slowly. “May I ask you to speak of this matter to them as well?”

Shannon’s eyes widened and her lips parted, but no sound came from them, competing thoughts battling for control of her voice. Joshua began to sense there was more here than just a daughter’s love for her father; and more than just a vital message that just might help save the Southlands.

“I…I can’t…” the girl stuttered. “I…”

“We must get this information to Lord Darius,” Jhan declared flatly. “And he must have it before he confronts this Council.”

They looked at each other, facing a crossroads, and yet a crossroads where every way seemed blocked.

“I can see to it that word is waiting for him at Duke’s Hall,” Joshua began, already feeling the words useless.

“Even if we cannot hope to overtake the speed of Andros,” Jhan countered, “we might still catch him as he returns from Llan Praetor.”

Joshua could see the hopelessness in their eyes, and he felt the desperation that had only deepened with their arrival in the city. He stood up.

“I may have a means to help you to catch up with your Father,” he announced. “Come with me.”

He led the way through the adjoining doors into his private bedroom and headed to the large chest at the foot of the bed.

“They’ve given me a thousand dinars, all to myself for a house, servants, and furnishings,” he said as he opened the chest. “A thousand dinars! I told them I live with my aunt and uncle in the High Pass, and even a hundred dinars would be more than enough for myself and my acolytes. But they refused to take it back, saying only that was the money set aside for a priest’s household.” He pulled out a large brown sack. “Even if I let my three young charges live in relative luxury, that will still leave 700 dinars for you.”

“For us?” repeated Shannon, stunned. Joshua carried the bag to his bed and emptied it on the covers, sending a small golden avalanche over the deep green quilt.

“As you’ve said, your Father has need of this information, and you are the one who must carry it to him,” he answered, quickly separating the coins into two, uneven piles. “Money will give you the speed you need.”

“But…but it isn’t right,” Shannon stammered. “The Church intended that money for you and your acolytes. Not to help us reach my Father.”

Joshua heard an even greater, unspoken reluctance in her words: an instinctive revulsion to the gold which had helped to give the Church its pre-eminence and which many believed had contributed to its corruption. He held the coins in his hands for a moment, frowning down at them, sharing the same doubt, then he started putting the bigger pile back in the bag.

“It was your Father who saved the High Pass and everyone there,” Joshua told her. “Including me. Yet the Church spurned him and honored me instead. These few coins are the poorest token of what is his due. There.” He finished loading the bag.

He held it out to Shannon, but she still hesitated to take it. He swallowed and said slowly, “If you will not take this money for your sake, then take it for mine. Your Father may well have saved all the Southlands by helping to hold the High Pass, and all he got from me in return were accusations of heresy.” He let out a long sigh. “Whatever his beliefs, it is to the Church’s eternal shame that only one newly-ordained priest will offer even this pittance.”