Adversaries Together (20 page)

Ignoring him, Sinclar continued, “First we
shall reveal that the paladin was a traitor. I will express
publicly a deep emotional betrayal and profound concern for the
safety of my gentle ward that our dear Patriarch insisted on
sending out. A young woman with no true knowledge of the world
outside our lands with a traitor. There will be turmoil; there will
be weakened confidence in the Patriarch.”

“
And then we shall reveal
the girl’s death and origin.” Pallas added as Sinclar gave a
knowing smile.

“
What will that
accomplish?” Stilbon asked.

Pallas turned to him annoyed, “An absent
first blood Parmentier would have meant that the spire had been
operating without true consent. An entire spire would have been
illegitimate under the rules of the Assemblage. The Silvincians
have a love for legalese…”

“
It will throw them into
crisis and in a state of crisis the Light will show the way.”
Sinclar concluded nodding at Pallas.

“
However brief.” Pallas
muttered over Sinclar.

“
And in that time?” Vander
asked.

“
In that time, I will
present the Assemblage with the findings from the jury in Bandra.”
Sinclar said.

“
Detailing what, exactly?”
Pallas asked.

“
That an alm luminary was
murdered by Essian assassins with the help of a heretical
paladin.”

“
That won’t be the exact
story circling here in Sulecin will it?” Stilbon
surmised.

Vander rubbed his face in worry, “They’ll
want to know what we were doing with her in the first place.”

Sinclar stepped down from the altar and
looked hard at Vander and Stilbon, “To the Assemblage, we will make
it clear we did not know of her parentage until lately. A secret
kept by the Patriarch. Pallas will come out as having discovered
the plot to hold her ransom. To our brethren, the various reports
from Bandra, rumors of the true purpose of sending the alm on the
mission, and controversy over the paladin’s loyalty will weaken the
Patriarch’s support.”

“
Will our fellow clergy
believe all this? How can we hope that enough will accept it?”
Pallas asked sounding dubious.

“
I am quite convincing,”
Sinclar sneered and continued, “Nearly all of the Spires distrust
the Patriarch, they will be looking to rally to a new face as the
head of the church.”

“
You.” Vander’s face broke
out in his standard toadying grin.

“
Just so, and I will be
able to orchestrate the election of our representatives to the
Assemblage. With the Spires as our fist, Essia will fall. The
Spires new occupation will allow us to complete our agreement with
Lappala.”

They all assented except Pallas who only
sighed, “That assumes quite a lot.”

Sinclar nodded, “Which is why we must move on
our end to codify the chapels to our cause.”

“
A coup,” Ebon mumbled, “I
don’t see how that will go over with the faithful. In fact, it will
give the heatheners even more incentive.”

“
It will not be a coup, as
such. We will prime the chapels, the Spires will demand change, and
out of fear our brothers will look for a new father.”

“
It could work. But we
can’t move too fast. The appearance of eagerness will undercut all
our machinations.” Pallas granted shrugging slightly.

“
It will work so long as
you all keep your followers in line.” Sinclar was stern, but his
face eased, “I will be Patriarch and you all will be raised with
me. The Light will illuminate all.”

Chapter III

The Stony Shore

Mabon Day

At first, all Roth knew was they were
moving. He would wake and see only gleaming white sky, then he’d
black out again or, at least, the brightness of the light would
consume his whole vision. Coming back his vision caught sky and
tree line before he faded. Sleep must have been what his body
needed, there were times when he woke with his eyes still closed.
He would feel the heat of day upon his face and see a strange
flutter of red and black behind his eyes. By now, he felt himself
laying on something uneven, he felt himself shuffle around, and he
heard the mouse-like squeak of wheels as well as innominate
chatter. Still he let his body dictate his consciousness, but it
wasn’t long before he woke properly. It was dusk for he could see
reddened sky and still feel the heat of the day in the world around
him. He tried to rise but failed. What was he on? Stones? No, not
stones…turnips, rutabagas, potatoes maybe? Was he lying in a potato
cart?

Figures passed, grey and brown, the texture
of rough spun cloth, the stench of sweat and twill. No one seemed
to notice him or at least no one seemed to care. It took him a few
moments before he realized that he was sore all over, he let out a
slight moan, “Don’t start with that.”

He tried to roll onto his side but his ache
and stiffness made this almost laughingly impossible—twisting upon
a cab of dirty tubers he craned his neck back towards the voice
that had spoken so calmly to him. He stared upside-down at a man
sitting the length of the cart’s seat with one of his legs thrown
carelessly over the backboard. He wasn’t looking at Roth, but he
was definitely talking to him. And eating a potato. No. An
apple?

In a hoarse whisper, “I’ll try to keep it
under control.”

“
Humph. See to it.” Reg
took a bite of the apple in his hand, then pushed the brim of his
hat up to brighten his face, and pointed at Roth, “You were the
perfect passenger for nearly three days. Don’t go ruining it
now.”

He tried to stand, but only ended up arching
his back enough to start to roll out of the back of the cart. He
couldn’t catch or right himself, so he rode a landslide of
vegetables out of the cart’s bed and onto the ground below.

“
You’ll need to pick those
up before you sleep tonight.”

Roth had managed to raise himself onto all
fours, he nodded and slowly rose with the greatest effort he had
yet put into such a simple task, “Apologies. This is a new mode of
travel for me.”

“
I don’t doubt.”

“
Where are we?”

“
The Stony Shore, maybe
forty leagues west of Arderra, a bit north along the western
foothills of the Siracenes. This is a pilgrim path to the
Cathedral. Well, more of a refugee path. All Adrendines looking to
sell their labor in Havan, Heveonen, and Sulecin.”

Roth nodded taking in his surroundings, “So
I’ve been out for what? Five days?”

“
They always say the sea
spits up what it doesn’t want.”

“
Who says that?”

“
Well, no one really.” Reg
smiled, “I was trying to be clever.”

“
Not really your best
quality.” Roth stood and tried to stretch a bit.

“
I’ve pumped sea-water from
your lungs, leeched poison out of you, and listened to your fevered
ramblings. So, now that you’re more lucid.”

Roth smirked then looked at their mode of
transport, “Why the vegetable cart?”

“
Who’s going to pester a
peasant farmer burdened with a drunkard in his potato wagon?
Besides, you think I was going to drag your body?” Reg tossed the
core of his apple away.

“
Makes sense,” Roth
shrugged, “Still.”

“
Hardly. But it’s seeming
to work just fine. You’re not dead and we’re not in any danger of
being harassed. This caravan is moving along with ease. I figured
once it turns toward Havan proper, we could simply wander
off.”

“
You’re taking a lot on
faith with me.” Roth was still twisting and stretching his limbs
and back. The vegetable cart had left him with knots all through
his body.

“
You’re not going anywhere
I want to go.” Reg agreed. “But I know your kind can be
trusted.”

“
Still, thank you for this.
I know it’s not been easy for you.”

When they left the homestead, Reg had sent
his boy Colm to stay with an in-law. Roth’s recovery after being
fished out of the sea was thanks to Reg’s detoxing knowledge. The
poison the corsair had shot into him before throwing him overboard
had numbed his whole body. In Reg’s cabin, Roth vividly recalled
vomiting a bright green bile while suffering through the shakes and
a heavy fever. It had lasted for what seemed like forever. He
wasn’t able to tell what was real and what was dream. Fortunately,
Reg had enough skill to pull him out of his delirium from time to
time, at least enough to let him know who he was.

Reg was a Novosar from the city of Calla, and
he had wandered his way down to the Novostos Sea shore via the
river trade on the Falkstone and Tanas. But he had settled here out
of love, specifically for an Athingani girl named Nessa. Though
they never married, they ended up with a child together. It was the
boy that made Reg’s care of Roth make sense. Roth was mumbling
nonsense and falling in and out of using the common tongue and the
Athingani cant. When Roth spoke the cant, Colm listened intently
and understood, his mother having taught him but Reg didn’t know
the language. It was easier to think in the cant and Roth unloaded
the story onto the boy. Colm translated enough for Reg that he had
loaded Roth up in his wagon and headed off toward the western
Siracenes to let Roth decide once he regained his senses entirely
whether to head to Rikonen or into the highlands.

Reg’s eyes narrowed watching Roth, and his
tone became more serious, “The Cathedral isn’t stupid. At some
point they’ll send detachments along most trade routes.”

Roth betrayed no anxiety but had forgotten
about the Cathedral. “You know these hills and shores,” Reg nodded
and Roth continued, “So you’ll be able to easily dodge any lakemen
or Silvincians if they even come sniffing around.”

“
I seem to recall you
saying ‘tweren’t any kind of lakemen that set on you.”

“
Yeah, well,” Roth bent
down and started picking up the potatoes that had fallen out of the
cart with him, “We know exactly where those men are.”

“
True.” Reg watched as a
few others in the caravan passed, “We’re maybe a day and a half,
two days out from Rikonen’s barrier hills. And maybe a half day
from the heart of the highlands proper in the opposite
direction.”

“
Rikonen.” Roth said
assertively. As he dumped an armful of vegetables into the cart bed
he asked, “We need to head into the highlands first, I’ve a camp we
need to prep for our return.”

“
Oh, yeah? Seems an
unnecessary detour.” Reg shook his apple at Roth.

“
It’ll be one night and
I’ll need what’s there or else the trip to Rikonen will be
pointless.”

Reg shrugged, “I’m not quite seeing the
necessity of any of this, but I made a deal with you.”

“
Think we can halve the
time to Rikonen from there?”

“
Would have to unload this
veg.” He pointed to some potatoes that Roth had missed, “But Lo and
Kia could definitely make that happen.” He walked over to the
horses and began to unlatch them from the cart.

Roth surveyed the caravan. There were tinkers
with all their worldly goods piled high on their backs, families
walking together obviously some kind of migrant workers, a few free
rangers on tall horses lazily trotting along, and low merchants
pulling and driving carts like their own. Looking down the line, he
saw it—a family of maybe seven or eight with only two on
horseback.

Walking over to the stout dark-skinned men,
he hailed them, “Friends, have a moment?” One of the mounted men
with high wiry blonde hair set into thick dreadlocks pulled off to
the side of the road and over to him.

“
Aye, what have
you?”

Roth made an open palmed, sweeping gesture
toward the cart. “My companion and I need to change our course but
we can’t take our cart and its meager contents with us.”

The halfling shook his head and the tin
beading on dreadlocks made a pleasant tinging sound, “We haven’t
the coin for that.”

“
No, no, you misunderstand
me,” Roth put out his hands in a sort of pleading gesture, “We
don’t want to abandon it, we want to make sure someone gets some
use out of it.”

The halfling was skeptical, “Why not just
leave it, let whoever steps to it have it?”

“
I’m from the highlands, we
were taught to give what we can’t use to those who can.”

“
You think I need your sad
cart?” the halfling scoffed.

“
I think you have two
ponies and fourteen…no eighteen feet. Your progress to Havan will
be slower than the rest of the caravan. Any trade you might hope
for will be done by the time you arrive.”

The halfling scowled and furrowed his brow,
“We’ve always done alright in the past.”

Just then, a woman halfling came up to them.
Older and heavier set, she was hearty but weary looking. Sweat
glistened on the dark skin of her face and arms, “Jaxar, what are
you haggling about?” she demanded.

The halfling on the pony rolled his eyes,
“Nothing Saxa.”

Roth saw his opening, “I was trying to give
the young man here my wagon.” Roth pointed to the cart, “So that
you all could ride instead of walk to Havan.”

Saxa nodded, “We don’t have the coin for
that.”

Jaxar smiled, “I told him that.”

“
I’m not looking to sell,
I’m looking to give.”