Tales of a Horse Thief, Cycle 2 Part 5e
Celestial had been insatiable, vigorous and oh so beautiful. They had drank wine, smoked hashish and made a racket. The neighbours periodically shouted out encouragements and curses, as dawn approached most of the neighbours had just thrown curses. They had fallen to sleep, sprawled across either end of the bed, he remembered her giggling to herself as he faded into disturbing dreams….
He opened his eyes, the ceiling had a pattern-worked metal finish, moulded maybe? He was still sprawled across the end of the bed. Daylight lit the small suite, he had heard voices, that’s why he was awake. He looked to the other end of the bed. She was gone. He looked to where he had placed his satchel, it was gone. Even his clothing had been taken.
No. Way.
He sat up. He heard Celestial’s voice from the sun room, there was a shushing noise and other woman said something in a lower voice. Loden carefully stood, the bed was a well made work of art, the floor gave a soft creak. The door to the sun room was slightly ajar, Loden saw a dark haired woman, crouched down with her back to him. Celestial was out of sight.
“Would you look at this shit.”
“Now you shush.”
“Just get dressed. I can’t believe you fucked him all night.”
“It was fun.”
“Next time you hide in the wardrobe and I’ll hook the fish.”
“Aw, sweet-pants, you know I’m way better at that than you.”
Loden burst into the room and clapped his hands on the dark haired woman’s ears. She shouted in pain as Celestial let out a startled shriek. She was half dressed. He took a second to look around.
The dark haired woman was on her knees, stunned, though trying to move away, she still had some of the glittery Eldra jewellery clutched in one hand. His satchel and clothing were at his feet. He glared as Celestial.
As she adjusted her top she said, “After last night, I didn’t even want to rob you.”
“Well, I don’t want to kill you. So– argh!” He glanced down at his leg and punched the dark haired woman in the face as hard as he could. She spun away. The knife had struck deep, a hand-span above his knee.
Celestial skirted the edge of the room with an apologetic smile, “Sorry.”
“What are you doing?”
“Leaving.” She gave her friend a hand up, pushed the window open and stepped onto the lower roof. When the other woman stood, he noted a bit of blood trickling from one of her ears.
She flipped him off as she stepped through the window, “Consider yourself lucky,” She held up the fist clutching the jewellery, “I’m keeping this.”
He reached down to grab up his satchel, pulled out the harness and drew one of the repeaters. Loden limped to the window and saw them, running off across the rooftops in the distance. He considered shooting, but decided it was a bad idea. They had already drawn too much attention. He did not want to be there when the city guard showed up.
He grabbed his stuff and limped over to the bed. After cutting himself some bandages from the sheets, he wrapped the wound as best he could, leaving the blade where it was. He put his shirts on, stashed the underwear and socks in his satchel, wrapped his pants around his mid section and put on his boots, then he hobbled out the door.
By the time he had made it down the stairs his wound was bleeding freely. He looked around, but saw no one in the immediate area. By the gods! He had horrible taste in women. Really he should have seen it coming. He felt sure that smarmy official from the Arcanium had sicked those women on him. He would remember the name Ide Yette.
Someone came out from between two of the nearby buildings, he was pushing a hand cart, Loden waved him over. The middle aged man eyed him over as he approached. Loden tried a smile, “Hi, I could pay you to take me to the Temple of Mercy?”
“Not sure the Goddess shares her gift with the likes of you.”
Loden rubbed at his forehead, “I’ll give you two days wages to take me there.”
The man considered for a moment, “Three days wages, since I figure you’re the bastard that kept me up all night.”
“Alright.”
“Jagon!” The man bellowed in his face.
Loden stepped back, surprised. A moment later a younger version of the man came out from the alley across the way. He walked over.
“This here’s the bastard that kept the neighbourhood up all night.”
“Looks like you got stuck pretty good.”
“Ah, you noticed. How kind.”
“Says he wants us to take his sorry ass up the Temple of Mercy.”
“I’m kind of busy right now father.”
“Of course you are son, but this man is being kind enough to offer us two days wages for taking him there.”
“Do I get two days wages?”
“Yes! Of course.” Loden snapped, exasperated.
They each spat in their hands, Loden did likewise. They shook on the deal. Then Jagon gave him a hand into the cart. On the way there the two of them argued about the likelihood of a poor sod like him receiving the Goddess’s blessing. Loden propped himself in a corner and fought to remain conscious.
By the time they were heading uphill towards the temple’s gate their conversation had degraded to speculating about what other sorts of blessings the priestess might be handing out. Loden tried to tell them not to be disrespectful, but it came out slurred.
“Father, he’s not looking too good.”
“Well, pick up the pace son. It’d look bad on us if he died here.”
They rattled up the hill, Loden was aware that they passed through a large stone gate but everything was fading in and out. The two locals sounded very far away as they continued to jabber. They stopped.
A Sister of Mercy was suddenly beside him, her hands were on his chest and he felt warmth flow from her into him. He relaxed and smiled up at her, his head cleared. She then busied herself with his leg, it was painful.
In a croaky voice he said, “I’m a friend of Asta’s. You might have seen her come here sometime in the last day or so.”
Her face hovered above him again, “Asta you say? Hmm, that would make you Loden. She’s been very concerned about you.” She brushed back his hair and gazed at the mark on his forehead.
“What’s going on?”
“You have the mark of the Goddess, as does Asta. It explains why you healed so easily.”
Loden rubbed at the mark, “What does it mean?”
She swatted his hand, “You should give thanks to the Goddess for your timely arrival. Your friend presently faces censorship and is before the Tribunal as we speak. I’d not normally ask this of someone I just healed, but please, put your pants on and come with me.”
He stopped long enough to pay Jagon and his father then limped after the priestess. She was making a beeline towards the main temple.
Loden took a quick glance around as he followed her. The place was big, the yards ample, in addition to the crop fields there were animal pens and numerous outbuildings scattered around the expansive property. Dozens of women and a few men were at work. Many of them were gathered around a line of bee hives, in the gardens or otherwise engaged in very productive looking tasks. This place felt very different than the other temples he had visited.
He saw a large stone orphanage that appeared to have been modelled along the lines of a military barracks, maybe it had been. The building looked like it could easily house a couple hundred children. He suspected the grounds of the temple might once have been a castle or fortress at some point in the past.
He was a bit shocked to see a number of young women training with staves and sticks in one of the yards between what looked like a dairy and maybe a warehouse of some sort. An older woman in leather armour was overseeing the training. She glanced at Loden and he was startled by her intensity, even at a distance he felt that she was not someone to be trifled with.
The temple itself was of stone, more palatial, with less fortification. Coloured glass and tiles were abundant, there were repeating patterns of the goddess’ symbol over much of the exterior. As he stepped over the threshold he felt a sense of well being. There was a lot of light, much of it of subtle filtered colours. The place was very clean. Murals of priestesses, or perhaps different representations of the goddess, were on many of the walls. Hymns and chanting echoes through the temple. Chimes sounded. The scent of cloves predominated the sanctum of the Goddess of Mercy.
Loden wondered what sort of trouble Asta had stirred up. Had she brought the Eldra here?
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