Dexter’s fist smashed his already flat nose into his face and sent him stumbling backwards into a chair. The chair tripped him up further and dropped him to the ground. The other two guards looked stunned and took a moment to react. Dexter’s pistol was out in one hand, waving slowly between the two of them and the clerk.
“I’m wanting to give him justice for what he done,” Dexter said in a near growl. “This ain’t my world, so I’ll just leave with her.”
“Five coppers,” the clerk said after several moments of hesitation had passed. The guard on the floor began to pick himself up, one hand cradling his nose and dripping blood.
“What?” Dexter asked, amazed.
“Five coppers for the slave,” he repeated, his voice a little stronger the second time.
Dexter stared at him, open mouthed, then shook his head. “Wow,” he muttered, reaching down with his free hand and untying a pouch at his belt. He slipped his fingers into it and pulled out several coins one at a time to check their worth. When he found a copper piece he tossed it on the ground at the clerk’s feet. After counting out five of them he pulled the drawstring on the pouch and motioned for the others to file out ahead of him.
“You can put your weapon down, our business is done,” the clerk said.
Dexter lowered his pistol slowly, and seeing no action being taken against him, he slipped it into the holster at his side. When still no one came after him, he followed his crew up the stairs and back into the auction hall.
“Cap, I dunno if she’s gonna make it,” Rosh said, seeing the filthy collection of skin and bones in his arms passing in and out of consciousness.
“Walk faster,” Dexter said, holding open the door to the outside world.
Rosh slipped through it, his movements bringing a faint moan from his cargo, and waited for Dexter to take the lead again. The Captain glanced at Willa as he passed them and frowned, then reached out and grabbed the first person passing him.
“Where’s the nearest church? Temple? Priest? Healer?” Dexter nearly shouted at the man.
The man, far from his prime and burdened by a roll of sticks he carried on his back, seemed ready to faint from the surprise of the near assault. He pointed off to the side, back towards the road they had come from. His eyes were wide with fear and he could do little more than stare at the angry fistful of his tunic that Dexter had in his hand.
Without another word Dexter let him go and headed in that direction. Rosh hurried behind as quickly as he could without jostling Willa too much. In the fresher air of the city the rotting stench that sometimes came from her hand or her clothing only seemed that much worse to him. Occasional drops of blood continued to dot the dusty road beneath and behind him.
In moments they came upon a large temple devoted to some God or other that Dexter had not heard of. Sometimes deities persisted from one port or world to another, but often each had their own pantheon to follow. Dexter did not know how it worked or why, nor did he care. What mattered was that they were often the best healers to be found, though the donation required was sometimes more than a normal man could bear.
Willa had passed out by the time they entered the fancy building. Dexter spared no time to admire the artwork, colored glass, or feats of fanciful architecture upon which the building was founded. Instead he found an acolyte that waited in front of double doors and pointed at Willa.
“We’ve come for the favor of your God upon this woman, fetch a priest boy!” Dexter said, wasting no time with irreverent small talk.
The acolyte looked at the woman, then at the still small but growing puddle of blood beneath her and nodded. He turned and slipped through the double doors, taking care to shut them behind him.
“Is she getting heavy?” Dexter asked Rosh, seeing him holding the woman as far from him as possible.
The large man scowled and shook his head, “light as a feather,” he grumbled. “Stinks like a tavern privy though!”
Dexter chuckled, knowing his hidden barb would cause the man to endure her weight longer. Fortunately, Rosh did not need to endure it for too long. A smaller door to the side opened and the acolyte gestured for them to come through it and follow him.
They ducked through it and followed him as he led them to a room that had a small alter set up in it. A hastily put together cot was in front of the alter, with some cloth draped across it. A full figured priest stood in the room, finishing the process of dipping his hands in a bowl of holy water.
“Set her there,” the man said, holding his hands up to dry in the air.
Rosh laid Willa into the cot as gently as he could, then gratefully stepped away from her. She moaned as she settled into it, her breath rattling in her throat.
“What happened to her?” Asked the priest, moving to walk around her and look at her more carefully.
“For the most part, we don’t know,” Dexter admitted. “She was raped at least once, probably more often. I’m for guessing the rest of her injuries came when she resisted in the past.”
He muttered something under his breath and kissed his holy symbol, which was a circle with an eye in the middle of it. It was made of gold and platinum, and probably worth more than Dexter had made since they had launched the Voidhawk.
“Who did this?” The priest asked, looking up at them.
“Does it matter?” Dexter asked him bluntly.
The priest looked at him for a long moment, then sighed. “Yes, yes it does. This is a temple of Acaros, and his light shines only upon the brave and the true.”
“She was a slave,” Dexter told him, not wanting a full discourse on the theology of Acaros.
“She was a slave?”
“Aye, as soon as I paid for her release she’s a free woman,” he said.
“My friend, such a thing is not possible. Surely you must know that only one of the Azmar can grant a slave freedom, and such things rarely ever happen, save for gladiatorial champions,” the priest said, incredulous.
“Very well,” Dexter said. “I purchased her and I’m the Captain of the Voidhawk, a ship that sales through the Void above. As soon as we get off this dirtball she’s free to do as she pleases.”
The priest’s eyebrows raised. He thought it over and smiled. “Indeed, that you may.”
“Leave us, child, we have work that must be done,” the priest said, turning to the acolyte. The boy nodded and left, shutting the door behind him.
“I admire you, Captain,” the priest said. “Though perhaps if you are not of this world you do not realize the dangers to which you speak. All the same, I admire you.”
“Have you a donation for the blessings of Acaros?”
“What sort of donation does your God require?” Dexter asked, the words tasting foul in his mouth.
“Surely the Captain of such a fine vessel must be able to afford something so trivial as a donation?” the priest pointed out.
Rosh barked a short laugh, drawing a glare from Dexter. Bekka seemed to be ignoring them all as she was lost in concentration. Dexter turned back to the priest and nodded, “I fancy myself the richest man alive. I’ve a fine ship and a fine crew.”
He reached into a pouch and withdrew several coins from it and offering them to the priest. Dexter counted roughly a score of gold coins lay in his hand, a pittance by any estimation.
The priest looked at it and sighed. “Really?” he asked, looking to Dexter’s face. Dexter nodded, his jaw set firmly. The priest nodded. “Very well, I will do what I can. What matters is that you give… I’ll not turn away someone so desperately in need of my help who, by all appearances, is worthy of such aid.”
Dexter’s eyebrows raised. He had not expected generosity from the man. Rarely were men of the cloth as benign as they claimed themselves to be. His bias made him not at all surprised when the priest spoke again.
“I would ask a boon of you, however.”
Dexter nodded for him to continue but the priest shook his head. “Later, she needs me to direct the blessings of Acaros or she will not be long for this life.”
Dexter’s nostrils flared. This left him indebted to the man. Had Willa’s life not been in the balance, he would have left. As it was, he had no choice but to nod again.
The priest held his holy symbol and chanted, sometimes softly and sometimes louder. It took him long enough that Rosh looked around and ended up sitting down with his back to a wall. Bekka remained attentive, watching in a way that made her seem as though she were lost in a daze. Dexter moved about, acting almost like a caged animal when he did so.
