“I just need to speak to your head priest if he’s available.”  She stared directly at the man on the other side of the door.  She could see him shrink back from that stare as he grappled for his next words.

“I will check immediately, Ma’am,” he closed the window so quickly that it failed to catch the hasp and remained open a crack.  The room just on the other side of the door was too dark for her to see anything clearly but the tone of the voices could not be mistaken.  She heard muffled voices coming from a distance with the erratic rise and fall of a panicked individual. 

“…but what could she want from you?” The exacerbation in his voice was quite obvious.  The response was indistinct but even so, she could tell the tone had quelled the inquisitor to silence.

The door opened with surprisingly quiet ease.  It’s weathered age now an obvious deception.  A middle-aged man in a dark gray smock was standing in the doorway.  He was of average height and from what she could tell with the way the smock fit him, he had a build that belied a clergyman’s life.  Most clergymen she had seen were like the weaseley fellow that opened the window – short and sickly looking.  This man was anything but sickly. 

“My deepest apologies Marshall, he wasn’t thinking clearly.  I will, of course, accept full responsibility for his lack of manners and proper etiquettes deserving of your position.”  His head was bowed as he said this in a humble voice so very typical of the Kestrian clergy that it did not sound like it actually came from the same man.

“Yes.  Of course you will.  I could have avoided this completely had I just entered but I was trying to be polite,” stated Kaylan without expression.

“Indeed, Marshall.”  The priest bowed his head respectfully again and opened the door for Kaylan to enter.  As she walked over the threshold into the dim foyer she noticed several small clusters of men gathered along the walls keeping to the shadows.  Whether they were persons designated to comply with her demands or just curious onlookers, she didn’t know.

Well, she thought one way to find out.  She cleared her throat as she scanned the dim corners of the room. No one moved. 

“My horse is in need of some water.  I didn’t draw any from the well when we came in.  I left him at the foot of your entrance steps.”

“My brothers have already seen to your horse.  He has been escorted through the rear entrance to the stable yard where he will be well attended.  I will take you there as I am sure you will want to inspect the facilities and the care he is receiving.”  The priest held his breath for a moment.

Again Kaylan cleared her throat, “How bold but that won’t be necessary.  I have faith that your ‘brothers’ will provide excellent care.  Besides, Shadow has a way of letting one know when he is displeased with his present situation.  I should know.  I have plenty of scars to prove it.”  She smiled and half laughed at this last statement and even more over the horrified gasps that went up from various points around the room.  The priest, however, was quite diplomatic with the slightest of gestures that sent one of his brothers scurrying through the door closest to him.  Off to warn the stable hand, I’m fairly certain, thought Kaylan with an internal smirk.

The priest turned back to face Kaylan.  With as much grace and poise as anyone Kaylan had ever seen at Court, he bowed low to her and said, “Now that you know your horse is in good hands, please allow me to introduce myself.  I am Father Denadyne.  I am the pastor of this parish.  How may I be of assistance?”

Kaylan’s left eyebrow rose in curious wonder that a priest in this remote mountain town would have cause to be schooled in such courtly manners.  “Someplace a little more private for starters, if you don’t mind.  Preferably someplace that doesn’t have holes in the walls for eavesdropping.”  Kaylan looked around the room slowly and deliberately as she said this.  As she looked back at Father Denadyne she noticed a tight smile fade from his face.  Again there was the grace and elegance of a courtly gentleman, not a priest of an impoverished church.  Kaylan tucked this observation into the back of her mind for future reference.

Father Denadyne turned toward the same door his brother had so hastily exited moments ago as he said in a rather pious voice, “There is no place that is completely private.  Our favored Lord is with us always.”  He paused when Kaylan raised her eyebrow.  She crossed her arms in front of her and was just getting ready to speak when he continued a bit more humbly, “Please follow me.  I do know of such a place.”

The morning sun splashed through the doorway as Father Denadyne led the way through a trellised breezeway that led past the stables.  Kaylan resisted the urge to look for Shadow since she had told Father Denadyne she was sure Shadow would be fine.  Then she heard a familiar snorting followed by some very loud munching.  Ah, she mused, the stable boy found his weakness.

“Seems Jaspar has done well with your horse,” observed Father Denadyne without so much as moving his head to verify it was her horse that had snorted.

“So it would seem,” replied Kaylan dryly.  “My thanks for making him feel at home.”

The priest smiled, “But of course, it is the least we can do for such an … honored guest.”  Kaylan could tell this was said out of a forced respect due to her station.  The fact that he emphasized the words ‘honored guest’ did not escape her notice.  His demeanor indicated he was well aware that her displeasure could mean the absolute destruction of his church and all that was in it.  She would not cause damage unnecessarily but she had been known to prove a point in the past.

Kaylan wondered randomly at the expense her visit was going to cost this church.  She wasn’t sure but could guess by the last census that their services were not well-attended which meant there would not be sufficient financial support.  She thought about this for a moment then called over to the stable boy, Jaspar, “Not too much more to eat, please.  He tends to get sluggish if he eats too much at one time.  We still have much ground to cover today.”

Jaspar, a boy of about twelve or thirteen, looked up quickly at the sound of her voice and stood frozen with fear.  Shadow, used to her voice and quite enjoying his oats didn’t budge from the bucket Jaspar was holding for him.  Once the words she spoke registered with the boy, he just about tripped over himself and her horse trying to comply with her wishes before she found reason to shorten his life.

Even with several yards distance between them, Kaylan could see that she had made the poor boy excessively nervous.  This was not her intent so before he managed to hurt himself or Shadow, she strolled over to where they were standing.  The boy was tall for his age but his face was one of youth and innocence.  He was also stronger than she would have suspected for a boy so young.  He had to be strong in order to hold the bucket of oats without moving while Shadow forced his large muzzle into the bucket to gorge.

Kaylan placed her hand on Shadow’s nose and rubbed it affectionately.  “You don’t need any more oats you big pig,” she said in a low voice.  He flipped his head at her in disagreement as she turned to look directly at Jaspar.   “Save the oats for the church’s horses.  Shadow appreciates them, I can assure you, but he definitely isn’t wasting away.  If you could, just spend some time rubbing him down.  We’ve been on the road for some weeks now and he hasn’t had a good rub down since we left Port Kestra.”  Kaylan looked back at Shadow fluffing his mane right behind his ears.

“Yes Ma’am.  I will be sure to rub him down immediately,” Jaspar started to walk toward the covered stalls then turned back to Kaylan.  “I am sorry I fed him too much,” he said with downcast eyes.  He reminded her of a timid mouse cowering in a corner somewhere hoping not to get noticed by the farm cat.  Kaylan smiled slightly so he wouldn’t be so afraid of her.  She knew he hadn’t meant any harm but she also had a strong feeling this church couldn’t afford for Shadow to eat all their oat stores.

“I don’t think he thinks you fed him too much,” she said softly motioning to Shadow.  “If anything, he’s mad at me for cutting him off.”  Kaylan gave Shadow a final slap on the neck.  He answered with a snort then turned his head to ignore her.  She then turned to rejoin Father Denadyne only to find he had walked over to them in silent observation.  His pale grey eyes appeared translucent in the morning sun but revealed nothing that was behind them.

“Shall we?”  Father Denadyne gestured to Kaylan to follow him past the covered stalls to an ivy laced arbor.  In a low humble voice he said, “Thank you for that.  He may not realize what you just did, but I do.”

Kaylan marveled to herself what it must be like for a child to grow up in such a sequestered environment.  She figured the only outside exposure these small mountain churches had was the occasional traveler in need of divine guidance on their journey.  On occasion they might get updates when they traveled to Chatelaine for supplies.  Most of the remote mountain villages and towns didn’t have enough trade commerce with the rest of Kestra to always have the most current information.

In her travels she discovered that some of the higher country villages, the ones closer to the Crystal Cliffs as well as some on the eastern edges of the kingdom didn’t even know the name of their current king, much less that there had been several kings between King Tramadon and the last one they had heard was in rule.  That was a nightmare trying to explain the transfer of rule from one king to the next.  They were, however, a treasure trove of knowledge regarding the northern parts of Kestrian history and lore.  If even half the story that weaver, Vatia, told was true, then I may very well find some crucial information up here among the mountain people that will help locate that bloody dagger.  With any luck this pastor will have some useful information.  She turned her thoughts back to the priest just as they entered a most magnificent garden.