Four Horsemen: Chapter 11 Part 1 of 2

Chapter 11:

Petor sat at Desari’s spot, Mya surveyed the city with her spyglass.

“Arresting adventurers in the middle of the night, taking the alchemists and smiths too,” Petor shook his head.

“Inquisition is out getting more than just a few people,” Mya lowered her spyglass “So what’s the plan?”

“I’m open to suggestions?”

“They got Valter and Desari, we need to get them out and escape.”

Light spilled in from under the door, someone approaching with a candle. Petor held up a hand towards Mya.

The candle stopped moving and someone knocked on the door. He pulled out his spear.

“Who is it?”

“Helena, hurry up,” She whispered.

They shared a glance. Mya put her spyglass away, drawing her pistol and putting it behind her back. Petor stored his spear, ready to draw it in a moment’s notice.

Mya opened the door. Helena checked the hallway with wide eyes holding a tallow candle and pulling the shawl around her head tighter.

“You two need to get out of her quickly.” She said.

“What’s going on?” Mya asked.

“The inquisition they’re rounding up the traders adventurers and anyone that has been looking into what was happening at the cathedral. How did it lead to this?” She shook her head, her hand tightening on her shawl, closing her eyes against tears.

“I thought that they were overreacting when they kicked Clemens off of the guard. He was a guard Captain, right from around here. He worked his arse off to get that position. Then the church says that he cared about mortal matters more than his devotion to Jorai and he was kicked out. Now the council has been apparently kidnapped by the church and they’re arresting everyone they can get their hands on and putting them in the barracks next the cathedral.”

“Why?” Petor asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Clemens was looking into it, what did he find out?” Mya asked.

Helena looked at her and looked away. “He said that Berox was taking over the city, said that the guards were getting nervous even, that the guards that come from the other nations were stepping into commanding roles instead of the people that live here in Sorelli. I heard from Ingrid that the guards are heading towards the cathedral, that there’s only a few on the wall.”

“They won’t be as connected to the people that live here, they don’t know them,” Petor said.

“Why?” Helena asked.

“So they can do things that the locals wouldn’t,” Mya glanced back at Petor. We can’t leave Desari and Valter up there.

Petor nodded. Saying much more would put her in more danger than she already risked, if the inquisition was to know of her warning.

”Thank you Helena,” Petor said.

Mya drew out a potion and a coinpurse. “I hope that this helps you. The potion will heal ailments to your health and the money will help you if you need to run, make sure you hide it well.”

“I can’t,” Helena’s eyes betrayed her as she shook her head.

Mya pushed it to her.

“If you don’t take them I’ll drop them,” Mya loosened her grip.

Helena grabbed them quickly with her free hand, her face going pale “You!”

Mya grinned, Helena shaking her head as her face split in a smile.

“Get somewhere safe, the wall is already weak, it won’t take much for the other armies to get in.”

“The priests abandoned the churches, heading up to the cathedral to ‘pray’. We can use those.”

“Good.”

Petor gathered up the remains in the room and Helena hurried off down the stairs.

“What are we going to do?” Mya asked.

“Disguise the horses and ourselves to look like farmers hiding inside the city. We head up towards the cathedral, praying or something,” Petor said.

“You sure you’re supposed to be becoming a god’s champion?”

“That might be something the old me wanted, but me, now, I don’t want to bend my will to someone that would condone these kinds of wars to exterminate another’s followers.”

“Fair. Once we have them?”

“Then, well,” Petor grimaced. “We’ll improvise.”

“Inquisition open up!” A group wearing masks and the livery of the church of Jorai hammered on a door down the street, another group rushed up towards the Head Rags.

“Time we were going,” Mya led the way down through the inn and out to the stables.

Petor pulled on a ratty cloak, throwing blankets and packs ontop of the horses.

They took mud working it into the horses fur.

“Open up, inquisition!” A woman hammered on the door to the inn.

“You think that anyone is really willing to open that door?” Mya asked checking their handiwork. “That should work.” She gathered up the reins of Valter and her horses.

Petor led out Desari’s and his mounts, back out onto the streets the distinctive sound of boots smashing down a wooden door behind them. They walked down a few streets and started back up towards the cathedral, leaving the inn well behind.

The sound of metal hitting metal and stone became louder as they reached an intersection. Stone masons carved a runic into the street, smiths pouring silver into the lines.

“Keep moving!” A guard waved them off.

Petor bobbed his head and kept walking slowly, the mounts plodding along with them. Mya followed, moving up beside him. Squinting at the wall, the cathedral and at the rest of the city.

“What you think that was all about?” he asked.

“Runic is all about runes and geometry and that was placed in-line with the cathedral. They’re making a city spanning runic.”

“What for? Defense?”

“That formation, those runes,” Mya shook her head. “I think its pulling power in. But that doesn’t make much sense. They’d need a massive amount of essence to power a runic as big as the city.”

Bells rang in the distance. Mya checked before pulling out her spyglass.

“They breached the wall, the defenders are being pushed back.” Enemy fighters engaged the forces on the walls, others streaming through the re-opened breaches,  Stone and shadow golems joining the fight.

“What about the priests?”

Mya tracked a group of priests cut down under the blades of the attackers, sending their last prayers to their god.

“I,” Mya’s eyes narrowed as she felt souls passing her. “What the, why would souls be going up the hill?”

“What you mean?”

Mya glanced back at where the runic was being made. Her eyebrows climbing.

“We need to get to the cathedral,” Mya closed her spyglass and picked up the pace.

“What’s wrong?”

“If I’m right then the church of Jorai is capturing souls.”

“When someone dies if they believe in a god and fulfill ther requirements then they can go to their realm in the celestial plane,” Petor hurried up next to her.

“This isn’t sending them to the celestial plane, its trapping them,” Mya gritted her teeth.

***

Desari measured out ingredients, adding it to her cauldron. The room had been lined up with ingredients being prepared and refined pushed along to the cauldron operating alchemists at the end. Desari used her own cauldron but without any of the essence enchantments, relying on the fire underneath.

Each station created alchemical fire. A thick tarry black substance that would go up with a single spark, already there had been two incidents, those injured pulled away, the fire having to be doused with sand and dirt.

Production didn’t stop, new alchemists took their positions, warned against further problems and set to working.

She scratched her hair, hiding ingredients in her hand, she added it with the other ingredients she’d slowly extracted from her hairpin.

She accepted another batch of ingredients from Carl beside her, putting them into the cauldron. She let essence slip into the cauldron, separating the ingredients to one side as she slipped in the ingredients from her pocket unnoticed.

All going to plan. She felt her connection with the others, a side effect of their oath. Their very souls linked together. But what did they really know about one another? They didn’t even know themselves. She was alone and would need to get out of here on her own.

She found it odd that the priests were carting away the alchemical fire instead of guards.

A man walked in with heavily armored guards, polished to a bright sheen.

The alchemists stopped what they were doing and raised their hands in prayer. Desari bowed, hiding in the people, working on her concoctions at the same time. She couldn’t lose them.

“Head priest you honor us with your presence.” The woman that had handed out the papers said. The head priest was an old man, grown soft with comfort and food.

“How goes the preparations?”

“We are ahead of schedule, everything will be ready.” She assured him.

“Good, make sure that you create plenty of the alchemical fire. We will see our enemies smote by the power of Jorai!” He ran one eye over the room.

“To Lord Jorai!” Those in the room praised.

He nodded, as if satisfied with it all and headed out of the room.

Desari poured the alchemical fire she was working on into a cask, filling it up. A priest stoppered it with a hammer and cork, a new one moved up. With their back turned she slipped a silver and grey stone from her cauldron, her second potion. It was sticking to the touch as she slipped it into her pocket.

Carl passed her more ingredients as she reached the cauldron.

“You are faster than any of the other alchemists and not one sign of mistake. I’m glad we’re working together.” Carl laughed, born of a sleepless night.

“Just doing my part,” Desari started putting ingredients together. She had been taking her time. Trying to figure out just what part she was playing for the church of Jorai.

Bells started to toll in the darkness beyond the workshop’s sole window.

Alchemists stilled as the female priest looked to those in the room with a grim determination.

“Your efforts will hold back the tide of the heretics. We must prevail.”

I wonder if she knows what we’re really doing.

Desari had smelled the same ingredients that Mya had mentioned, though she was no closer to figuring it out than her diminutive friend.

***