Empire. The main difference seemed to be that clothes were less padded here as it was noticeably warmer this far south.
The church door opened and a tall, thin man with untidy straw-coloured hair emerged. He hurried down the stone steps to greet the new arrivals, smoothing down the sky-blue robes that he wore. A silver crossed-circle rattled on a fine chain as he approached with an eager smile.
'Enlightened Brother, Enlightened Sister, please allow me to welcome you to Solnos and, indeed, to Pontaine. I'm Kurt Stoll.' He thrust out a hand, which Gabriella shook.
'Gabriella DeZantez,' she said, 'and Erak Brand. And, as it happens, this is something of a homecoming for me. I was born in Andon.'
Stoll raised his eyebrows. 'Andon, eh? There's a DeZantez at the Cathedral archive there… Marta, isn't it?'
'My mother,' Gabriella confirmed. She liked this man immediately and was surprised to realise how quickly she was beginning to feel at home.
'Of course,' he said warmly. 'The resemblance is obvious.' He hesitated and glanced at Erak. 'Oh, I'm terribly sorry, Brother Brand. I didn't mean to exclude you. It's been such a long time since I enjoyed the company of my fellow clergy. Please, come inside. If you wish to pray, confess, eat, or simply freshen yourselves after your journey, it will be so.'
'They all sound good to me,' Erak said. 'Freshening-up first, though.'
'Definitely,' Gabriella agreed.
She went to find a suitable cell in the cloisters. It was simple but comfortable, with a low bed, a chair, stool, table, water-basin and jug. She hauled off her mail shirt and hung it on a beam and sank gratefully into the chair. She felt that she stank and briefly wondered whether any of the townspeople would mind if she spent some time in their fountain. She smiled to herself, deciding that, having just come to put an end to one source of moral laxness, it wouldn't do to risk being the inspiration for the next one.
She washed in water from the jug and changed into a tunic and jerkin, with a white tabard bearing the symbol of the Faith over it all.
Erak had done likewise, and now they were both ready to join the Enlightened One for refreshments.
No-one in the crowded tavern on the corner of Solnos' market square paid much attention to Dai Batsen. He was just another customer, leaning against a wall.
Even the tapster behind the bar hadn't noticed that this customer had been nursing the one mug all afternoon.
Batsen himself paid the keenest attention to everyone in the tavern. He could tell at a glance which were the local workmen trying to drown the stresses of a long day; which were the travellers looking for refreshment after a journey; which were the smugglers and thieves; which were the eyes, ears and noses of a Vos Duke, a Pontaine Lord, or the Final Faith.
He was also able to tell which worked in the stables used by the Knights who had recently arrived. He watched as a scruffy-haired burly lad came back from the bar with two mugs of beer. The lad was Kurt Stoll's chief altar boy and Batsen had been buying the lad drinks for the past hour.
'You were saying,' Batsen began mildly, 'about the new arrivals.'
'Yeah, They're going to be staying. Using the church as a base, while they wander around.'
Batsen merely raised an eyebrow. 'Wander?'
'There are a lot of villages with no church. They'll go out and hear confession and lead prayers, I suppose.'
'And only these two Knights are staying?'
'That's what the letters said.'
'And their names…'
'Gabriella DeZantez and… Erik Blond, or something like that.'
'Erak Brand?'
'That's the one.' Batsen sat back, satisfied. He had the confirmation he needed.
The altar boy yawned and blinked sluggishly. 'Bloody hell. Strong stuff. The drinks are good here.'
'I guarantee you'll never drink anywhere else.' Batsen said.
The young man slumped face-first onto the table, snoring low and deep. Batsen stood and slipped out of the tavern while the boy was still breathing. The poison was not the quickest-acting, but it was decent, and actually quite kind. There would be no spasms or fire in his veins; just drunken slumber during which he would stop breathing. Batsen felt no urge to hurt the boy, or cause him pain. He just needed to be sure there would never be any mention of their conversation.
Gabriella and Erak ate with Enlightened One Stoll as he gave them a potted history of both his career and of the church. Gabriella and Erak had both wondered why such a decent sized church was here rather than in Fayence, but it had turned out that an exiled cousin of the then Lord Defender of Vos had built it a hundred years earlier. Relations between the two nations had been better at the time.
'You've heard about the assassination attempt on Eminence Rhodon?' Erak asked and Stoll nodded. 'We have information that there may be a connection to a place in this region: the Golden Huntress.'
Stoll's face crinkled into a knowing smile. 'Ah yes. The Huntress… It's the bane of moral development in this quarter of Pontaine.'
'Do you know it?' Gabriella was surprised.
'Well, not directly, but I have heard rumours of girls for sale and the use of Dreamweed. It's one of those places… Everyone knows it exists yet no-one claims to know where it is. You know the kind of thing.'
'Well, we intend to find this house of ill-repute and do something about it.' Gabriella said.
'It's about time.' Stoll said, with a mixture of enthusiasm and relief. 'How do you plan to go about it?'
'There must be enough people in Solnos who use the Huntress; we just need to persuade them to tell us where it is. However… unwittingly that might be.' Gabriella smiled. 'I suggest you drum up some business first thing in the morning. Just provoke some reactions and see if any of them are Brotherhood reactions. They're bound to know we're here, so we may as well act openly.'
'And you?'
'Scouting, I think. If the Huntress is as profitable as was implied, it must be large and I didn't see anything large enough in town.'
'Unless it's in a loft or a cellar.'
'Always the optimist.'
Erak propped himself up on one elbow. 'Why don't I scout and you sing?'
'You're a better singer.'
'That's debatable.'
'Not to me.'
The next morning Gabriella woke in Erak's arms. She felt both comfortable and strange there. Comfortable because they were joined, protecting each other; strange because it was so different from being on duty together or sparring.
The pledge scroll they had written together was wound tightly and sealed into a silver case lying on a chair opposite. Preceptor DeBarres would sign as witness when he received it, and pass it on to Eminence Voivode. Kurt Stoll had already seen it, of course. He had signed it, as the Enlightened One of their current parish. Once signed, a pledge scroll was binding in the eyes of the Lord of All, whether there was a marriage or not. One child, both signatories willing partners in the creation of a new worshipper.
'Aren't you going to take marriage vows as well?' Stoll had asked.
Gabriella and Erak had exchanged a glance.
'Probably,' Erak said. 'When I can persuade her to settle down in a parish and stop fighting for a living.'
Gabriella had feigned offence. 'Look who's talking!'
Stoll had merely given an amused grunt and said: 'Well, when the time comes, I hope you'll consider me
