Oddly enough, the romantic stuff I was never fond of is what I went back to the most. The assurance of Lasha’s passion and love brought me joy on even the darkest of days. After the upheaval at Damanhur, I needed a little more joy than usual so I skipped to the next letter and focused on the romantic stuff there as well.
After the last letter, I retied the bundle and leaned back once more. Heavy in thought, my mind eventually drifted from Lasha and the kids to Ava. I wondered what my sister was up to. Based on my last conversation with Balak, I hoped she was at least keeping an eye on the High Mages from doing something stupid with the Geneshan artifact.
Regardless, her presence in Damanhur would have been a big help to us. Still, a part of me felt that she had made the right decision.
As a mage, she had always felt like an outsider in Denu Creek.
I sighed. Maybe in Hol she’d find her place in the world.
CHAPTER 7
Just three days later, the well maintained roads we had been traveling turned into old, beat up paths.
We came across a priest of Molak with warm brown eyes and a smile that shown bright under the overcast sky. Due to his wrinkled forehead and graying hair, I guessed him somewhere around his mid-fifties. Tattered at the hem, his red robes had faded to a light pink. Many of the symbols usually adorning the front and back were faint outlines that I only saw by squinting.
Under normal circumstances, Captain Nehab would be the one in charge of addressing the wayside traveler. However, the captain was still anxious about Damanhur and had taken a small squad of five men to scout our back trail. I didn’t expect him to return for hours. Command fell to me.
“This isn’t exactly the safest road to travel, old-timer,” I called out as we slowed our approach.
The priest’s smile faltered at my lack of the proper address to someone of his station. If Hamath had been nearby, he probably would have jabbed me with an elbow for the casual attitude I used with the priest. Nehab had taken him though.
The priest recovered quickly. His smile returned. “Yet you travel the same road.”
“We have many to watch each other’s backs. You don’t.”
“I need only Molak to look after me.”
I grunted as I gestured for the driver of the wagon to stop beside him. “Is that so?”
He nodded.
“Might I ask where Molak was when the bandits attacked you?”
He frowned. “How do you know bandits attacked me?”
“Well, I don’t see any supplies nearby.” I pointed. “Not even the pouch at your waist where Molak’s servants usually keep their ceremonial dust for blessings. Plus, it looks like you’re favoring your right side like something or someone hit you.”
“You have me there.” He began to chuckle, which, in spite of his chosen profession, put him on my good side. “Perhaps Molak was tending to more important matters.”
“Perhaps. Where you heading?”
“Nowhere in particular. Wherever life takes me.”
“Well, life is taking us that way,” I said gesturing down the road. “There’s room in the back of the wagon and a warm meal if you’re interested in riding with us at least through tonight. My captain will have to decide how much further we extend hospitality.”
“Considering my current situation, I’d be a fool to say no.”
It was my turn to grin as I threw back a thumb. “Hop on then. My name’s Tyrus.”
He bowed. “You can call me, Kehat.”
* * *
By the end of the day I had begun to regret my goodwill toward Kehat.
I had known many of the men worshipped Molak. What I hadn’t realized was how starved they were to renew that faith.
During the war, men would say a prayer or mutter a curse to the gods as needed. However, few really devoted themselves to their chosen deity as there was little time for all the pomp and circumstance needed to do it properly. Balak allowed priests to come and go so long as they didn’t get in the way of men doing their jobs. Therefore, few men spent much time talking to priests.
I guessed after Damanhur, some of the men felt like their half-hearted efforts in worshipping the father of the gods had caused Molak to abandon them at a time when all was supposed to be well. They figured that by taking advantage of this golden opportunity with Kehat, Molak might get off his rear and throw them a hand out.
I doubted Molak would do anything. He sure seemed stingy with the blessings during the last decade when hundreds of thousands of men lost their lives on the Turine side alone. It seemed that Molak would have been a bit understanding of his followers’ inability to properly worship since they were busy trying to block the swords coming at their throats.
Regardless, Kehat had the men chanting prayers and singing hymns as we set up camp. Even quiet Dekar joined in. We were so far away from any major form of civilization, I decided to let the men go at it and get it out their systems. From the looks of things, they all needed it.
I, on the other hand, did my best to block out the dozens of songs I remembered from my youth, lest I accidently slip into a chorus myself. That was no easy thing. Several times I caught my lips silently repeating the refrain of a specific prayer on their own accord.
Comfortable the work was getting done, and filled to the brim with the carryings on, I placed Dekar in charge, and went to the outskirts of camp to get away. Thinking about Lasha and the kids helped clear my mind.
Some say that religion was infectious. They may have been right, but it was a disease I had no wish to catch.
* * *
Captain Nehab returned just after camp was set. I knew this only because the singing came to an abrupt halt. I heeled and toed it back to camp to greet him but he was already walking toward me.
“Sorry, sir. Didn’t mean to be disrespectful. I was farther out than I thought.”
“No problem, Sergeant. We can stay out here. Hamath told me about your aversion to all things religious. I don’t have quite as strong of feelings as you, but I’m no disciple either. How have you been killing time?”
“Just thinking. Mostly about my sister now. Wondering how she’s doing with her studies under the High Mages of Hol. She never got along with them before. Put one in the infirmary about four years ago when he tried to belittle her in front of several others because she was only classed as a squad mage under my unit.”
He chuckled. “I remember that. Your sister has a unique personality.”
I grinned. “That she does. Hopefully, it’s not getting her in trouble. Especially since I know she wanted to be a part of looking over that Geneshan artifact.”
He grunted. “Well, I hope looking is all the Council of High Mages is doing. Balak told me what the Geneshans think the artifact is capable of. I’ve dealt with enough misery and chaos in the war. I don’t need that stuff following me home.”
“I hear you, sir.”
The singing started back up, and I shook my head. “So, how’d it go today?”
We started walking.
“Well enough. No one seems to be following us, which is what we suspected. We came across a small town off the main road. Heaven’s Way. Ever heard of it?”
“No, sir.”
“Me either. For something with heaven in the name, it sure was a dump. Maybe eighty people or so. I kept the men back and entered on my own after removing all signs of the army about me. Just to get a feel of things.”
“And?”
“Not great, but not awful either. They hadn’t heard of Damanhur yet, thankfully. But I’m sure they will soon enough. Regardless, the sentiment seems mixed. Most of the general populace doesn’t hold the army in high regard. Lots of stories circulating about the war. Some false, some true, some exaggerations of the truth. Those who seemed to be more supportive of the war or at least indifferent to it were around, but outnumbered in their opinion.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Hard to say, and I couldn’t press without being suspicious.”