“I understand. Go in peace, ambassador, and may Celestia watch over you.”
“And you as well.”
Dieredon scattered the fire with his foot, then headed for the city. Graeven watched him go, for a moment doubting the wisdom of sending the Scoutmaster after the Watcher. In the end, he shrugged his shoulders, and decided it was worth the risk.
15
Dejected, Haern returned to the temple just before the break of dawn. He’d scoured the city, twice interrupting an attempted theft, and once a rape, always careful to wound without killing. Still no sign of the Wraith, despite the possible attention. At least the rain had subsided, and no riots had broken out, which was a blessed relief.
As he walked to the door, it opened, and Logan startled for a moment finding him standing there so close.
“Heading out?” Haern asked.
“Errands,” Logan said, hurrying away.
Inside, he found Alyssa still asleep on one of the benches, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. Zusa sat beside her, and she nodded in greeting. Haern nodded back, and he began to sit when Nole appeared from his room.
“Finally back?” the priest asked.
“I am,” Haern said, keeping his voice low so he wouldn’t wake Alyssa. “Though I have little to show for a night’s rest wasted.”
“Come, use my bed then,” said Nole. “It is softer than the benches, and I have no need of it.”
Haern didn’t want to be a bother, given the kindness the priest had shown them over the past few days. Still, the benches were hardly comfortable, even with the padding of blankets. He removed his sword belt, pulled back his hood, and followed. The priest’s room was small and bare, but it had a bed, and Haern sat on its side. The mattress was stuffed with feathers, and it felt divine after hours hunched over the side of buildings, watching and waiting.
“I’m sorry it isn’t much,” Nole said, tidying up his small desk, and rolling up various scrolls. “You must be used to better, having come from Veldaren. Have you seen the temple there?”
Haern laid his swords down in a corner, then set his newly purchased cloak atop them.
“A few times,” he said, kicking off his boots. “It is a fine building.”
“Fine?” Nole chuckled. “Fine does not do it justice. Great pillars, walls carved of marble from distant quarries. I hear they’ve begun coloring their windows, so that the light swirls like a rainbow as it enters the temple.”
The priest looked around his room, carved of plain wood, and he gestured out the door, to where simple benches rested atop uncarpeted floor.
“Sadly, I must make do with so very little.”
“I take it Angelport is not so free gifting its coin?” Haern asked, laying down on the bed, his back popping multiple times as he did.
“I think the wealthy and the poor are all the same in every city, Haern, at least when it comes to their coin. No, the gods are not very important to the sailors and workers of Angelport. I have a small congregation every sixth day, but their tokens are only enough to keep me and Logan fed, and stave off the debtors for another year. Perhaps we do not impress them, perhaps I am an uninspiring servant of Ashhur, but at least Karak’s presence here is just as weak.”
“Well, at least there’s that. Thank you for the bed.”
“You’re welcome. I will leave you be.”
The priest blew out the small lamp and shut the door, closing him in darkness. Finding the room too hot, he removed his shirt and flung it into the same corner as his swords. He closed his eyes to rest, but then the door opened, and Zusa slipped inside.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“I wish to join you, if that is fine.”
He furrowed his brow.
“But it’s morning.”
“I could not sleep through the night, for I spent too many days asleep as is. But I am tired now. If I would bother you, I will return…”
“No, that’s fine. The bed’s large enough.”
He shifted over, and she slid into the blankets. He turned, and he felt her press her back against his, and he was surprised by her closeness.
“We are a sad married couple,” he heard her whisper.
“We are, aren’t we?” Haern said, laughing. “Seems there’s not much need for the guise anymore. Probably best. I don’t think either of us were good at it.”
She fell silent a moment, and he tried to focus on his breathing instead of the touch of her skin against his.
“You found nothing, didn’t you?” she asked quietly.
“Nothing.”
“I could tell. I fear we’re nothing but puppets in this farce.”
He heard ruffling of blankets beside him, and then Zusa’s arms slid underneath his, and she pressed her face against his neck. He tensed despite himself.
“Not that,” she said, as if reading his thoughts. “My life is a lonely one, Watcher. Let me enjoy your comfort knowing you need nothing in return.”
Haern nodded, and felt embarrassed for the thought. Closing his eyes, he let his breathing slow. It was a strange but welcome feeling, her breath against his cheek, her arms loosely wrapped about him. She spoke of loneliness, and thinking of those long five years he’d spent living in the streets of Veldaren, he could sympathize with that ache.
He slept, and it was peaceful, but not long.
“Haern?”
He stirred, the worried tone of Zusa’s voice kicking in years of training. Fully alert, he sat up in bed, realizing that he was alone atop the mattress. Zusa knelt by the door, having cracked it open for just the tiniest sliver of light to pierce through.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“Dress, and prepare your swords,” she said, shutting the door so they fell once more into darkness. She kept her voice low, as if afraid of being heard. “I fear we have been betrayed.”
“Betrayed?”
Already he’d thrown on his shirt and cloak, locating them easily enough in the corner. He heard a ringing sound as Zusa drew her daggers.
“Yes, betrayed. I weep for this city, Haern. Even the faithful are faithless.”
As he tightened his belt, he heard a heavily muffled noise. The second time, he guessed what it was, and he felt his throat tighten.
Voices were shouting from outside the temple.
“Alyssa?” he asked.
“Dead or sleeping, from what I can see. Move quickly.”
The door cracked open again, then closed, and suddenly Haern felt a pair of lips ram against his mouth. It took him a full second to kiss back, so stunned was he.
“Don’t die,” Zusa whispered into his ear. “In time, perhaps I’ll show you why Karak’s priests made me one of the faceless.”
Haern chuckled, then pulled his hood low.
“Go,” he said.
They burst through the door, weapons drawn. In seconds he’d taken in the scene, and it was not what he
