“Sore,” he admitted. “But I’ll last until we find the duchess. You?”
“Well enough,” he said. “One of the battle-priests saw to me when I reported to the King’s Tower.”
Kleef had thought as much. “Good. And speaking of the Tower, what was the lord marshall’s reaction when you told him there were Shadovar in the city?”
Jang shook his head in disgust. “It wasn’t to send reinforcements,” he said. “He ordered the Tower doors barred and the portcullises dropped. I barely made it out in time to collect the troop and come after you.”
Kleef gave him a bitter smile. “I guess the old marsh buzzard thought he was finally going to be rid of me.”
“Perhaps so,” Jang said. “His eyes did brighten when I told him you had gone after the enemy alone.”
“Well, I guess that’s fair,” Kleef said. “I truly hope he’s alone when he meets the Shadovar.”
Jang chuckled darkly, but stopped when Joelle emerged from below decks carrying a wooden toolbox and a bucket of water. When she caught Kleef’s eye and smiled, the Shou took his leave and went to keep watch over Elbertina.
As Joelle approached, Kleef glanced into the toolbox she was carrying. Inside were dozens of different needles, threads of all thicknesses and materials, and small rolls of canvas that could only be sail patches.
“Expecting a storm?” he asked.
“Soon enough.” Joelle took his arm, then drew him toward the center deck and sat him atop the hold cover. “And I want to be sure you’re patched up before it hits. Let me see how bad your wounds are.”
Kleef eyed the bent, rusty needles in the mending kit. “Not bad,” he said. “I’ll last until we’ve recovered the duchess.”
“I have no doubt.” Joelle dipped a hand in the bucket, and the water inside began to glimmer with a faint silver light. “It’s what comes after that I’m worried about.”
Kleef frowned. “Protecting the Eye of Gruumsh?”
“Exactly.”
“I haven’t said I’d help with that,” Kleef said.
“But you will.” Joelle soaked a piece of cloth in the water bucket. “You’re a good man.”
“That doesn’t mean I can ignore my duty,” Kleef replied. “I’ll do what I can for you, but I’m here to rescue the grand duchess.”
“And we are serving as bait to improve your chance of succeeding.” Joelle looked up and locked gazes with him. “Doesn’t one good deed deserve another?”
She smiled, and Kleef began to feel guilty for being so reluctant. Clearly, she and Malik would be taking extra risks by deliberately allowing the Shadovar to find them, and she was right-that deserved some consideration.
Finally, Kleef nodded. “Within reason,” he said. “Now, tell me why you and Malik stole the Eye of Gruumsh in the first place-and why the Shadovar are so desperate to get it back.”
Joelle thought for a moment, then motioned to the bloody armor covering the main parts of his limbs. “Will you take off those vambraces and cuisses so I can see to your wounds?”
Kleef glanced into the bucket of still-glimmering water. In the absence of a good battle-priest, it was probably better to trust to Joelle’s healing abilities than to do without. He began to undo the buckles on his armor.
“You understand, I promise nothing in return,” he said. “My duty is to Marsember first.”
“How could I forget?” Joelle asked. “But you will not save Marsember by letting Shar give the rest of the world to the Shadovar.”
Joelle smiled again, this time with an expression of forbearance, and Kleef began to feel just a bit foolish. Clearly, he was defining duty a bit too narrowly, guarding only the hand when the foe was striking at the head.
“You have a point,” he admitted, “as long as you’re not exaggerating.”
“I’m not,” Joelle said. “You’ll see that soon enough.”
She had Kleef remove the doublet and hose he wore under his armor and began to clean his cuts with water from the bucket. There were more than a dozen, mostly around his knees and just above his wrists, but none were deep enough to have slashed any tendons or major blood vessels. Still, Kleef was relieved to discover that as Joelle worked, a pleasant numbness overcame the stinging ache of his wounds.
“So,” Kleef said. “The Eye of Gruumsh. Where did it come from?”
“The one you saw came from an orc stronghold in the Stonelands,” she said, not looking up. “Malik and I recovered it from the Hidden Temple of Nishrek in Big Bone Deep.”
Kleef didn’t know whether to be impressed or skeptical. Big Bone Deep was the stuff of legend, home to an infamous tribe of orcs known as the Spleen Eaters. According to folklore, they had lived in the Stonelands since before the Storm Horns were mountains, and they were credited with a hunger for human flesh so ferocious that no human had ever seen their lair and survived to tell about it.
But, incredible as the claim was, that was not what gave Kleef pause. “The one I saw?” he asked. “You mean there’s more than one Eye of Gruumsh?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Joelle dipped her cloth in the bucket and squeezed. Dirt and blood jetted into the water, then vanished without fouling it. “It’s the same Eye, but it can be perceived in different ways.”
“What’s that mean?” he asked.
“You’ve already experienced it,” Joelle said. “When Malik showed you the Eye, first you saw a rock. Then, after a moment, you glimpsed its true nature-I saw the horror in your face.”
“That felt like magic to me,” Kleef said. “Dark magic.”
“What did you expect?” Joelle countered. “That’s how it feels to have a god look at you. Terrifying and magical and mysterious.”
“Maybe,” Kleef said. If there was one thing twenty years of night duty on the Watch had taught him, it was to be suspicious of ready explanations. And Joelle was trying to recruit him-he couldn’t forget that. “Let’s say Big Bone Deep really exists, and that you and Malik actually raided this hidden temple and lived to tell about it.”
Joelle looked hurt. “You don’t believe me?”
“I have a suspicious mind,” Kleef said. “I still don’t see what’s so important about a big ball of quartz.”
Joelle’s smile grew frosty-and Kleef felt crushed.
“I thought I explained that.” Joelle paused, then continued in a tone that suggested she found Kleef a little slow. “The Eye of Gruumsh is a ‘quartz ball’ only in its physical aspect. In its divine aspect, it’s a center of power-the medium through which Gruumsh perceives all of Abeir-Toril.”
“And that’s why you and Malik had to steal it?” Kleef asked, not quite sure why he suddenly felt the need to prove he was smarter than Joelle seemed to think. “To protect the world from orcs?”
Joelle looked confused for a moment. “I suppose ‘protecting’ is how you would perceive our task,” she said. “But it’s more complicated than that. It’s not the orcs we’re trying to stop, and we didn’t actually steal the Eye-at least not the divine one. Luthic gave it to us.”
“Luthic?” Kleef asked. “Gruumsh’s mate?”
“The goddess of caves,” Joelle corrected. “Why do men always assume that when a female beds a male, she becomes his property and loses her identity?”
“I wouldn’t know.” Kleef’s reply came without hesitation, for he had questioned enough scofflaws to know when someone was trying to rattle him. “Why would Luthic give you her mate’s only eye?”
Joelle studied him for a time, then spoke in a soft voice. “There’s no need to make this into an interrogation, Kleef. I’m happy to tell you everything.”
“Thanks,” Kleef said, not changing his tone at all. “Why would Luthic give you her mate’s only eye?”
Joelle sighed. “It’s a gift.”
“For you?” Kleef glanced aft toward Malik. The little bug-eyed man had Elbertina trapped against the port bulwark, engaging her in a conversation she was obviously too polite to end. “Or for Malik?”