Chapter 7

My gut reaction to Ferrith’s comment about not being friends was to feel a pang of disappointment. I thought we’d actually bonded a little. Then I remembered what he said about not associating with him for my benefit and thought it might be his way of looking out for me. I kept my face calm while the paladin continued to babble unintelligible nonsense at me… or maybe it was at Ferrith. It was hard to tell between the helmet hiding his head and the language barrier.

“No, that won’t work,” Ferrith told the paladin. “He doesn’t speak Ardic either. You’ll need magic if you want to talk to him. I could translate for you… if you let me go.”

The paladin gave Ferrith a shove forward and grunted out some angry-sounding words. “Fine! Forget I offered,” Ferrith shouted back. “But when your commander tells you to let me go anyway, don’t think I’m going to offer to help. He’s your problem now; I was just being a good samaritan and showing him where the church was. I thought you people enjoyed taking in strays.”

The commotion Ferrith was causing brought several of the soldiers in the churchyard to the gate entrance, as well as a bald man in a pure white robe, who emerged from the front of the church. We all gathered around the gate. It sounded to me like the other paladins were questioning their fellow that had detained Ferrith, but once again I could only follow the interspersed comments he made about it. “No. He didn’t!” Ferrith insisted. “Noooo. He’s exaggerating. It wasn’t like that. I was just surprised, is all. If I’d summoned an ogre, everyone would have seen it, wouldn’t they?” One of the other paladins roughly seized Ferrith from the first paladin’s grip and started fiddling with the shackles around his wrists.

The white-robed man tapped me gently on the shoulder, which temporarily distracted me. He asked me some kind of question. I just shook my head. “Sorry, I don’t understand,” I answered. He asked me something else; this time the words sounded vaguely French. “No, not that either,” I told the man—a priest, I assumed. “I don’t speak any of the native languages here on Earris,” I explained. He pointed to my bare feet, making some kind of comment. “No, no shoes either. Sorry.” He frowned. I’d seen my fair share of pitiable looks, so I recognized the expression that passed over his face as he studied me. I hated the pity my terminal illness inspired in others, much preferring the dark humor of my friends back home that weren’t afraid to poke fun at me just because I was dying.

The priest’s head was shaved completely bald, and he wore a voluminous white robe that hung loose over his body, such that he had to pull up the sleeves to keep his hands visible. His only adornments were a gold-colored cord around his waist and a thick gold chain around his neck with that same triangular three-pointed starburst I’d noticed showing up all over the place. I figured it was their version of the cross. The amount of gold the priest was wearing was astounding. Even if the cord around his waist was just cloth-of-gold, his necklace alone would be worth thousands of dollars on Earth. He clutched me gently by the shoulder and beckoned me to follow him into the church.

“Sorry, I’m not sure what to do with this bag,” I told the priest. “It’s not mine.” I knew he didn’t understand what I was saying, but I felt compelled to explain my reluctance. I looked around for Ferrith and saw he was being released by the paladins. The priest walked into the church without me.

“No, no,” Ferrith was telling the paladin that had just freed him. “As long as you assure me Brother Marcus will be reprimanded, I won’t file a complaint with the Guild.” He straightened his helmet, then shot a glare at the paladin that had tackled him. This “Brother Marcus” was the tallest of the assembled paladins, but not by a lot. Ferrith marched over to me and took his bag back. “Thanks for grabbing my stuff,” he said.

“They’re releasing you?” I asked. “Just like that?”

“He never had cause to arrest me in the first place. His commander agreed. He threatened to turn me over to the watch for instigating a fight! Me! You saw him charge me, didn’t you?”

“Umm, yeah. It seemed like he attacked you on sight.”

“It’s not the first time, either. He thinks I’m involved in some kind of evil conspiracy and is determined to prove it. Every time I go out on an adventure with someone else and they get themselves killed, he raises a big stink about it, like I’m somehow responsible.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head as he heaved his bag over his shoulder. “Well, anyway, I’m getting out of here. I’d recommend you not stay any longer than you have to. You’ve seen the type of zealots the church employs.”

I nodded. “Thanks for helping me find the place. Are we still going to—”

Ferrith gave a quick shake of his head, then cut me off. “See ya, kid. Hope they help you out with your cancher thing.” Then he just walked away. He hadn’t even pronounced my disease correctly.

I looked over at the imposing double doors of the church. There were still paladins in shiny armor gathered around squabbling with each other. I wasn’t sure where I was supposed to go or who I was supposed to talk to. I think if I’d been bleeding out from an active stab wound, I still would have preferred slowly dying in the street over interrupting a group of freakishly tall soldiers in full battle armor that sounded like they were in the middle of a heated argument. At least that way I wouldn’t bother anyone.

The kindly looking priest from before came back outside while I was still waiting for someone to notice me standing there. He returned from the church holding out some kind of baton-like object. He gave me a smile as he approached, which I guessed was supposed to let me know his intentions were good. I returned the gesture. When he got closer, I could see that the thing he was holding actually had two prongs, like a tuning fork. It also had a diamond the size of a quarter mounted to the base where the prongs met. When he reached me, he gestured with the device, then struck one prong against his wrist. As he did, the fork let out a soft hum while the diamond mounted to the base of it sparkled softly with some internal light.

“How about now?” the priest said. My eyes involuntarily went wide at hearing speech I could understand. I could still hear the strange alien language he was speaking; it was just that I could also hear a vibrating English translation coming out of the tuning fork. It sounded like he was speaking through a spinning fan—a bit garbled, but understandable.

“I understood that!” I said excitedly. My voice repeated through the tuning fork in that guttural language the priest spoke. I realized what was happening was obviously magic. The tuning fork had to be providing a translation similar to the one Ferrith used.

The priest struck the tuning fork again to keep it humming. “Very good,” he said. “We keep one of these on hand for just such an occasion. A gift from the local Artificers. They are truly a blessing. Come, join me inside. You can tell me what brought you here today.” He beckoned me forward and turned towards the massive double doors of the church.

One paladin from the group that was still arguing broke off from the others and stomped over to block my path. He pulled the visor of his helmet up, revealing a face that looked no older than my own, despite the shaved head and gray skin. The only unique feature I noticed was a little black soul patch he’d grown under his bottom lip. Without asking, he reached down and snatched the tuning fork from the priest’s hands. I was sure he was the same paladin that had just arrested—and then been forced to release—Ferrith a moment ago. The tight-lipped expression on his face was somewhere between anger and annoyance: I couldn’t tell which.