Dienna followed closely behind Meredith as they plodded through Drelwood's darkened streets. She tried to ask her if she knew where she was going, but was either ignored or unheard. Long past the point of arguing, and still terrified of what had occurred at the chapel, Dienna let Meredith lead them as she willed. Eventually, after some backtracking and apparent wrong turns, they found, crammed between its neighboring buildings, an establishment called the Pilgrim's Rest Inn. The light that shone from its windows was neither particularly warm nor inviting, but to Dienna it may as well have been the blessed light of Dartos himself, so happy was she to see it. She strode past Meredith and led the way inside.
What little warmth the inn's common room gave was unable to penetrate the heavy layers of rain-laden robes the two girls wore, and they shivered as they stumbled to one of the five tables therein. To their left was a bar, behind which a surly looking woman was wiping dishes clean, and to their right was the fireplace, which burned low and cold. An old man brooded over a glass of wine at the table in front of them, but the place was otherwise empty. Meredith looked about, distraught.
“I thought for sure he would be here,” she said.
“The wizard?” Dienna returned, removing as many layers of wet clothing as she could from her clerical robes.
“Yes.”
“Did he actually tell you he was staying here?”
“Not exactly.”
Dienna frowned, “Then why are we here?”
“He mentioned something about an innkeeper showing him the town,” Meredith returned, removing the outer layers of her own robes. “And I remembered passing this place on my way back from the market the other day.”
“So you just put two and two together?”
Meredith blushed, “A town this small wouldn't have more than one inn, would it?”
“It might. The Golden Village has three or four.”
“Well it's a good place to start, anyway,” Meredith replied determinedly. “I'm going to go ask the barkeep if she's seen any wizards. He shouldn't be too hard to find.”
Dienna nodded and soon Meredith bustled up to the bar and began speaking in urgent tones to the woman cleaning the dishes. Dienna's attention, however, was soon captured by the old man who sat at the other table—at least, Dienna had thought that he was an old man. Having just finished his wine, he now lifted his head and began staring into the fire, revealing a youthful face despite his head being completely bald. Bright eyes shone from sunken, though un-wrinkled, eye sockets, and his face, though thin and gaunt, might have been that of a man no older than her brother Sonder. Dienna was taken aback. Why had she mistaken him for a much older gentleman? She could have sworn that when she had first sat down, he had looked to be in his sixties or even his seventies. Dienna frowned. Perhaps it was just the inn's poor lighting? Aside from the baldness, the man was plainly in his younger years.
Dienna's inspection of the bald man was cut short by Meredith's return.
“He's here” she said. “The innkeeper's gone to get him.”
She took her seat and soon a tall, dark-skinned man dressed in black and gray robes appeared from the bottom of the stairs at the far end of the common room, followed by the innkeeper, who was speaking to him softly enough that Dienna could not hear what she was saying.
“It's alright, Anabeth,” the wizard replied to her in a deep, soft tone, “I have been expecting them.”
The woman called Anabeth scowled and made her way back to the bar while the wizard sat down at their table.
“Greetings,” he began simply, his face carefully indifferent. “I hope you are both well.”
“Endrick,” Meredith said before Dienna could reply, leaning forward over the table, “Forgive us for seeking you out. I didn't know who else to turn to.”
“I do not mind, although perhaps you should tell me what is going on. Who is your companion?” he asked.
Meredith blushed, and replied, “Of course. This is Dienna Darpentus, priest of Dartos.”
Dienna nodded curtly.
“Dienna, this is Endrick—er, sorry,” she turned to face him, “I don't actually know your surname.”
“Arelo,” Endrick said bowing to Dienna as he sat. “Endrick Arelo, Wizard of the Third Class. I am pleased to meet you. Meredith did mention to me the other day that you two were...traveling together.”
Dienna raised her eyebrows, “Traveling? I'm afraid that is not the word I would use. We are currently fleeing the wrath of one of your own, wizard. Our home was overtaken by Lady Artima of the Plains; we are on the run.”
Endrick leaned in, “Then perhaps it would be best not to proclaim this too loudly, Lady Dienna. Artima may have eyes and ears about.”
Meredith gave a nervous chuckle, “We know.”
“We were staying in the Drelwood Chapel,” Dienna explained, frowning at Meredith's making light of the situation, “but we've just discovered that Flavus the Wise is a disciple of the New Way, and was planning on handing us over to Artima. Her ogres are less than a day's ride away.”
Alarm flashed across Endrick's face, but was soon replaced by a calm, neutral expression, “Then we had better leave this place, and quickly.”
“We?” Dienna asked.
“Isn't that why you're here?” Endrick said, leaning forward. “To ask for my help?”
“I don't think—”
“Let me phrase this a different way,” Endrick cut her off, though not unkindly. “You will need my help, if what you have told me is true. Artima is not one to be trifled with. She is, perhaps, the most powerful rogue wizard we've ever known. The Repository has been monitoring her for some time, but it seems our spy has turned coat.”
“Spy?” Meredith asked.
Endrick nodded, “The Repository formed a truce with Artima nine years ago. We allowed her to stay in her stronghold in Astquary on the condition that she make no aggressive acts toward us or the people of Dorneldia at large. To help enforce this, the Repository sent a young pupil to her, Ophie Dale, who would report back to them on Artima's plans in secret. The pupil reported faithfully for many years, but, from what I've heard, has made fewer and fewer reports as time went on.”
“And the wizards never questioned this?” Dienna asked archly.
“We did,” Endrick sat back, his angular face betraying no emotion, “but there were other, more pressing matters to deal with at the time. Now, however, Artima has openly broken our truce, and the Repository must act against her.”
“So what do you propose we do?”
“I propose that you both accompany me on my journey back to the Repository. I must inform them, if they have not already heard through other means, of the events at the Godskeep. I am certain they will want to hear firsthand accounts of what she has done, so that we may take the appropriate steps to apprehend her. I am duty bound to present these details before the Archmage.”
Dienna scowled, “What would a wizard know of duty? You left a dangerous sorceress to her own devices for nearly a decade and now you want us to travel all the way to the Repository to help you fix your mistakes?”
Meredith turned to Dienna, “We don't have much of a choice, Dee.”
“We do have a choice,” Dienna snarled, her voice echoing in the small room. The bald-headed gentleman was now staring at her, his eyes piercing and bright. She continued in an emphatic whisper, “We do have a choice. Why should we trust you, wizard? It's miles upon miles by land and sea to reach the Repository. Why should we take the risk of going with you?”
Endrick shrugged, “Then stay here. As you said, Artima's ogres are not far off. Get captured. Be her prisoner. Or better yet, leave Drelwood and head south to the Riverlands, or west, to the capital. I guarantee you that Artima is not working alone. She would not have made such a bold move against the Way without being sure that her resources were plenty, her people well-placed.”
Dienna's eyes narrowed, “You seem to know a lot about her, wizard.”
Endrick was unmoved, “Not enough to have stopped this all from happening, I'm afraid. Artima is out of my realm. My line of study lies in the ancient writings of magic, not in espionage or counter intelligence.”
Meredith spoke, “But you could protect us from her ogres, yes? And the Repository would help us defeat her?” She looked at the wizard too earnestly for Dienna's liking.
He nodded, “I could protect you reasonably well, and, if the Archmage agrees to it, we wizards may be able to help you reclaim your home.”
Dienna was silent. She could almost physically feel her indecision in the pit of her stomach. This man was a stranger to her, for all that Meredith apparently trusted him, and a wizard. She knew that their best chances of dealing with Artima were to fight magic with magic, but Dienna was reluctant to place herself, and the fate of the Way, in the hands of the mages. She tried to remember all that she could about Artima and the wizards at the Repository, but it wasn't much. The wizards lived on an island to the north that bore the same name as their organization, and it was there that the old taught the young the ways of magic. There were, of course, rules that the wizards of the Repository must abide by, and if one broke those rules, they were a rogue. In her lifetime, Dienna had only heard of one rogue wizard aside from Artima, and that wizard had been found and killed shortly after he had defected. Dienna had no idea what Artima had done to be called a rogue, nor why she was still very much alive and powerful. How had the Repository allowed her to do so much under their watch? How could Dienna place her trust in them?
Still, they weren't safe here. Spies, ogres—their own priests were not to be trusted. Dienna noticed the old man at the other table looking at her again. No, not an old man, she thought irritably, he only looked old out of the corner of her eye. Dienna let her eyes meet his for a moment—cold and pale, and unblinking— before Dienna blinked and realized that the silence around them had become uncomfortable. She turned her gaze away from the strange man and back to the wizard who sat before her.
“I am not enthused by our options,” she began. Endrick made no remark, and Dienna continued with reluctance, “but I must accept your offer. We will accompany you to the Repository, and seek the help of your Archmage—and I pray that they do decide to help us.”
Endrick bowed, his mouth set in a grim line, “And I as well, Lady Dienna. Anabeth?” He called out to the woman behind the bar. “Please prepare us some food for travel. We will be leaving on the East Road by dawn.”
Anabeth nodded and left promptly for the kitchens.
“I suggest that you two rest while you can,” Endrick continued, standing up. Dienna was once again startled by his height.
“Yes,” she replied, suddenly uncertain, “we'll rest.”
The next few hours flew by. The woman Anabeth showed Dienna and Meredith to a small but clean room on the second floor of the inn, and made them remove their wet clothes to be hung dry. They had no other clothing with them, having taken none when they’d fled the Godskeep, so Anabeth produced a pair of rough-spun chemises for them to sleep in. Although the storm raged outside, Meredith fell asleep as soon as her head hit her pillow, while Dienna lay awake for what seemed like most of the night. The more she thought about Artima, the more confused she became. What had Artima done to deserve the ire of the Repository? Why did she now call herself the Chosen Mother? Had she truly spent nine years in exile plotting to overthrow the Way? What interest would a wizard even have in the gods?
What was she looking for?
Artima had asked Flavus for news about something she sought—something that related to Dienna's family, something Artima was going to interview Sonder about. Dienna fervently wished he was okay. Maybe imprisonment in his own home was a better fate than it sounded.
Dienna felt like she had been blind. She had given her entire life to the Way—to its teachings, its workings, its ministry—and yet she had been unable to see that there had been something amiss right in front of her. When she looked back, she could now see what she couldn’t at the time: priests, followers, lords and ladies, complaining about doctrine, about money and charity, about interpretation, about intention, about the future of the Way. There had always been priests, of Dartos, Lantos, and Seltos, who had had ideas about the Way that had been out of the ordinary, but who had kept those ideas to themselves. Dienna now could see that those same people would be susceptible to the claims that Artima was making. She thought of Lord Varent, always lamenting that Seltos did not receive enough attention, complaining in those last few weeks before the attack of the nearness of the gods...Had Lord Varent, the Prominent of Seltos, also supported Artima? Dienna's head swam with these and other thoughts until she feared she would get no rest.
Still, she must have fallen asleep at some point, for she was awoken by a rough shake from Anabeth, who looked at her sternly and held a finger over her pursed lips in a gesture to be silent. Quickly, quietly, the girls dressed. When they were done, Anabeth ushered her and Meredith out of their room and walked them down the hallway, stopping in front of the open window at its end.
Dienna looked at the woman questioningly as Anabeth began to tie a thick rope to the nearest door handle, and threw the other end out the window.
“Ye mus' go,” Anabeth said, now gesturing out the window.
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