The Cleric Quintet: The Chaos Curse (Page 2)

 

Rufo started to answer, but gagged instead and clutched his throat

"What have you done?" Druzil repeated loudly. "Bene tettemara\ Fool!"

Rufo gagged again, clutched his throat and stomach, and vomited violently. He staggered away, coughing, wheezing, trying to get some air past the bile rising in his throat.

"What have you done?" Druzil cried after him, scuttling along the floor to keep up. The imp's taifwaved ominously; if Rufo's misery ended, Druzil meant to sting and tear him, to punish him for stealing the precious and irreplaceable potion.

Rufo, his balance wavering, slammed into the door-jamb as he tried to exit the room. He stumbled along the corridor, rebounding off one wall, then the other. He vomited again, and again after that, his stomach burning with agony and swirling with nausea. Somehow he got through the rooms and corridors and half-crawled out the muddy tunnel, back into the sunlight, which knifed at his eyes and skin.

He was burning up, and yet he felt cold, deathly cold.

Druzil, wisely becoming invisible as they came into the revealing daylight, folIo""Qd. Rufo stopped and vomited yet again, across the hatuened remains of a late-season snowbank, and the mess showed more blood than bile. Then the angular man staggered around the building's corner, slipping and falling many times in the mud and slush. He thought to get to the door, to the priests with their curing hands.

Two young acolytes, wearing the black-and-gold vests that distinguished them as priests of Oghma, were near the door, enjoying the warmth of the late winter day, their brown cloaks opened wide to the sun. They didn't notice Rufo at first, not until the man fell heavily into the mud just a few feet away.

The two acolytes rusheol to him and turned him over, then gasped and fell back when they saw the brand. Neither had been in the library long enough to know Kier-kan Rufo personally, but they had heard tales of the branded priest. They looked to each other and shrugged, then one rushed back into the library while the other began to relieve the stricken man.

Druzil watched from the corner of the building, muttering "Bene tellemara" over and over, lamenting that the chaos curse and Kierkan Rufo had played him a wicked joke.

Perched high in the branches of a tree near that door, the white squirrel, Percival, looked on with more than a passing interest. Percival had come out of his winter hibernation this very week. He had been surprised to find that Cadderly, his main source of the favored cacasa nuts, was not about, and was even more surprised to see Kierkan Rufo, a human that Percival did not care for at all.

The squirrel could see that Rufo was in great distress, could smell the foulness of Rufo's illness, even from this distance.

Percival moved near his twig nest, nestled high in the branches, and continued to watch.

Different Paths Taken

The three bearded members of the company, the dwarves Pikel and Ivan Bouldershoul-der and the red-haired firbolg V ier, sat off to the side of the cave entrance, rolling bones, placing bets, and laughing among themselves. Ivan won a round, for the fifteenth time in a row, and Pikel swept off a blue, wide-brimmed hat, with an orange quill on one side and the eye-above-candle holy symbol of Deneir set in its front, and whacked laughing Ivan over the head.

Cadderly, seeing the move, started to protest. It was his hat, after all, simply loaned to Pikel, and Ivan's helmet was set with the antlers of a large deer. The young priest changed his mind and held the thought silent, seeing that the hat had not been damaged and realizing that Ivan deserved the blow.

The friendship between Ivan, Pikel, and Vander had blossomed after the fall of Castle Trinity. Gigantic Vander, all twelve feet and eight hundred pounds of him, had even helped Pikel, the would-be druid, redye his hair and beard green and braid the bushy tangle down his back. The only tense moment had come when Vander tried to put some of Pikel's dye in Ivan's bright yellow hair, something the square-shouldered, more serious Bouldershoulder did not like at all.

But the exchanges were ultimately good-natured; the last few weeks had been good-natured, despite the brutal weather. The seven companions, including Cadderly, Danica, Dorigen, and Shayleigh, the elf maiden, had planned to go straight from the victory at Castle Trinity to the Edificant Library. Barely a day's hike into the mountains, though, winter had come in full force, blocking the trails so that not even Cadderly, with his priestly magic, dared to press on. Even worse, Cadderly had fallen ill, though he insisted that it was simple exhaustion. As a priest, Cadderly served as a conduit for the powers of his god, and during the battle with Castle Trinity (and the weeks of fighting before that) too much of that energy had flowed through the young priest.

Danica, who knew Cadderly better than anyone, did not doubt that he was exhausted, but she knew, too, that the young priest had taken an emotional beating as well. In Castle Trinity, Cadderly had seen his past and the truth of his heritage. He had been forced to face up to what his father, Aballister, had become.

In Castle Trinity Cadderly had killed his own father.

Danica held faith that Cadderly would overcome this trauma, confident in the depth of Cadderly's character. He was devoted to his god and to his friends, and they all were beside him.

With the trails closed and Cadderly ill, the company had gone east, out of the mountains and their foothills, to the farmlands north of Carradoon. Even the lowlands were deep with a snow that the Shining Plains had not seen in decades. The friends had found a many-chambered cave for shelter, and had turned the place into a fair home over the days, using Danica's, Vander's, and the dwarves' survival skills and Dorigen's magic. Cadderly had aided whenever he could, but his role was to rest and regain his strength. He knew, and Danica knew, that when they returned to the Edificant Library, the young priest might face his toughest challenge yet.

After several weeks, the snows had begun to recede. As brutal as the winter had been, it was ending early, and the companions could begin to think about their course. That brought mixed feelings for young Cad-derly, the priest who had risen so fast through the ranks of his order. He stood at the cave entrance, staring out over the fields of white, their brightness stinging his gray eyes in the morning sunlight. He felt guilty for his own weakness, for he believed that he should have returned to the library despite the snows, despite the trials he had faced, months ago, even if that meant leaving his friends behind. Cadderly's destiny waited at that library, but even now, feeling stronger once more, hearing the song of Deneir playing in the background of his thoughts again, he wasn't sure that he had the strength to meet it.

"I am ready for you," came a call from inside the cave, above Vander and the dwarves' continuing ruckus. Cadderly turned and walked past the group, and Pikel, knowing what was to come, gave a little "Hee hee hee." The green-bearded dwarf tipped the wide-brimmed hat to Cadderly, as if saluting a warrior going to battle.

Cadderly scowled at the dwarf and walked past, moving to a small stone, which crafty Ivan had fashioned into a stool. Danica stood behind the stool, waiting for Cadderly, her beautiful daggers, one golden-hiked and sculpted into the shape of a tiger, the other a silver dragon, in hand. For any who did not know Danica, those blades, or any weapons, would have looked out of place in her deceivingly delicate hands. She was barely five feet tall - if she went two days without eating, she wouldn't top a hundred pounds - with thick locks of strawberry blond hair cascading over her shoulders and unusual almond-shaped eyes a light but rich brown. On casual glance, Danica seemed more a candidate for a southern harem, a beautiful, delicate flower.

The young priest knew better, as did any who had spent time beside Danica. Those delicate hands could break stone; that beautiful face could smash a man's nose flat. Danica was a monk, a disciplined fighter, and her studies were no less intense than Cadderiy's, her worship of the wisdom of ancient masters no less than Cadderiy's of his god. She was as perfect a warrior as Cadderly had ever seen; she could use any weapon, and could defeat most swordsmen with her bare hands and feet

And she could put either of the enchanted daggers she now held into the eye of an enemy twenty paces away.

Cadderly took his seat, pointedly facing away from the boisterous gamblers, while Danica began to softly chant. Cadderly found a meditative focus; it was vital that he remain absolutely still. Suddenly, Danica broke into motion, her arms weaving intricate patterns in the air before her, her feet shifting from side to side, keeping perfect balance.

The impossibly sharp blades began to turn in her fingers.

The first one came around in a blinding flash, but Cadderly, deep in concentration, did not flinch. He barely felt the scrape as the knife's edge brushed his cheek, barely had time to smell the oiled metal as the silver dragon whipped in under his nostrils and shot down to his upper lip.

This was a ritual that the two performed every day, one that kept Cadderly clean-shaven and Danica's finely honed muscles at their peak.

It was over in a mere minute, Cadderiy's stubble swept away without a nick to his tanned skin.

"I should chop this tangle away, too," Danica teased, grabbing a handful of Cadderiy's thick, curly brown hair. Cadderly reached up and grabbed her wrist and pulled her around and down, over his shoulder so that their faces were close. The two were lovers, committed to each other for life, and the only reason they had not yet been married in open vows was that Cadderly did not consider the priests of the Edificant Library worthy of performing the ceremony.

Cadderly gave Danica a little kiss, and both jumped back as a blue spark flashed between them, stinging their lips. Immediately, both turned to the entrance to the chamber on the cave's left-hand wall, and were greeted by the joined laughter of Dorigen and Shayleigh.

"Such a bond," remarked Dorigen sarcastically. She had been the one to cause the spark - of course it .had been the wizard. Once an enemy of the band, indeed one of the leaders of the army that had invaded Shilmista, Dorigen, by all appearances, had turned to a new way of life and was going back with the others to face judgment at the library.

"Never have I seen such a spark of love," added Shay-leigh, shaking her head so that her long, thick mane of golden hair fell back from her face. Even in the dim light streaming in through the cave's eastern door, the elf's violet eyes sparkled like polished jewels.

"Should I add this to your list of crimes?" Cadderly asked Dorigen.

"If that was the greatest of my crimes, I would not bother to return to the library beside you, young priest," the wizard replied easily.

Danica looked from Cadderly to Dorigen, recognizing the bond that had grown between them. It wasn't hard for the monk to discern the source of that attraction. With her black hair, showing lines of gray, and her wide-set eyes, Dorigen resembled Pertelope, the headmistress at the library who had been like Cadderly's mother until her recent death. Pertelope alone seemed to understand the transformation that had come over Cadderly, the god-song that played in his thoughts and gave him access to clerical powers to rival the highest-ranking priests in all the land.

Danica could see some of the same perceptive characteristics in Dorigen. The wizard was a thinker, a person who weighed the situation carefully before acting, and a person not afraid to follow her heart. Dorigen had turned against Aballister in Castle Trinity, had all but gone over to Cadderly's side despite her knowledge that her crimes would not be forgotten. She had done it because her conscience had so dictated.

Danica had not grown to love, or even like, the woman over the weeks of forced hibernation, but she did respect the wizard, and did, to some extent trust Dorigen.

"Well, you have been hinting at this for many days," Dorigen said to Cadderly. "Is it time for us to be on the roadf?"

Cadderly instinctively looked back to the door and nodded. "The passes south to Carradoon should be clear enough to travel," he replied. "And many of the passes back into the mountains will be clear as well, the snow fallen from them." Cadderly paused, and the others, not understanding why the mountain passes should be of any concern, watched him carefully, looking for clues.

"Though I fear that the melt might bring some avalanches," the young priest finished.

"I do not fear avalanches," came the firbolg's voice booming from the door. "I have lived all my life in the mountains, and know well enough when a trail is safe."

"Ye're not going back to the library," piped in Ivan, eyeing his giant friend suspiciously.

"Go," added Pikel, apparently not too happy about it.

"I have my own home, my own family," said Vander. He, Ivan, and Pikel had discussed this matter many times over the last few weeks, but not until this moment had Vander made a decision.

Ivan obviously wasn't thrilled with it. He and Vander were friends, and saying farewell was never an easy thing. But the sturdy dwarf agreed with the firbolg's decision, and he had promised, before and now again, that he would one day travel north to the Spine of the World Mountains and seek out Vander's firbolg clan.

"But why are you talking of the mountains?" Shayleigh asked Cadderly bluntly. "Except for Vander, we'll not have to go into the mountains until we pass Carradoon, and that will entail no less than a week of walking."

"We are going in sooner," Danica answered for Cadderly, thinking that she had the man's mind read. She found that she was half right

"Not all of us," Cadderly stated. "There would be no need."

"The dragon's treasure!" Ivan roared suddenly, referring to the cave they had left behind, where old Fyren-tennimar had lived. The friends had dispatched the old red in the mountains, leaving his treasure unguarded. "Ye're thinking of the dragon's treasure!" The dwarf slapped his round-shouldered brother on the back.

"An unguarded hoard," Shayleigh agreed. "But it would take all seven of us, and many more than that, to bring that great treasure out."

"We do not even know if the treasure will be found," Cadderly reminded them. "The storm that Aballister threw at Nightglow Mountain likely sealed many caves."

"So you wish to go back to see if the treasure might be recovered," Danica reasoned.

"Recovered when the weather is more agreeable," said Cadderly. "And so we need not all make the journey to the mountain."

"What do you propose?" Danica asked, and she already knew the lines that Cadderly would draw.

"I will return to the mountain," the young priest answered, "along with Ivan and Pikel, if they are agreeable. I had hoped that you would come along as well," he said to Vander.

"Part of the way," the red-bearded giant promised. "But I am anxious ..."

Cadderly cut him short with an upraised hand. He understood the firbolg's feelings and would not ask Vander, who had been so long from home, so long tormented by the assassin, Ghost, to delay any longer. "Any step you take beside us will be welcomed," Cadderly insisted, and Vander nodded.

Cadderly turned back to the three women. "I know you must get back to Shilmista," he said to Shayleigh. "King Elbereth will need a full report on the happenings at Castle Trinity, so that he might stand down the elven guard. The fastest route for you would be south past Carradoon, then along the more traveled trails west from the library."

Shayleigh nodded.

"And I am to accompany Dorigen back," Danica reasoned.

Cadderly nodded. "You are not of either host order," he explained, "thus, Dorigen will be your prisoner and not under the jurisdiction of the headmasters."

"Whom you do not trust," Dorigen added slyly.

Cadderly didn't bother to respond. "If all goes well at Nightglow, the dwarves and I should come to the library no more than a few days after you."

"But since I came in alone, Dorigen will remain my prisoner," Danica reasoned, and she smiled despite the fact that she did not wish to miss the adventure at Night-glow, and did not want to be apart from Cadderly at all.

"Your judgment will be more fair, I am sure," Cadderly said with a wink. "And it shall be easier for me to convince the headmasters to accept that judgment than to get them to pass a fair punishment of their own."

It was a solid plan, Danica knew, one that would likely spare Dorigen from a hangman's noose.

Dorigen's smile showed that she understood the plan's merits as well. "Again you have my gratitude," she offered. "I only wish that I believed myself worthy of it"

Cadderly and Danica exchanged a knowing look, and neither was the least bit worried about splitting the party with a prisoner in tow. Dorigen was a powerful wizard, and if she had wanted to escape, she certainly could have done so by now. Over the weeks, she had not been bound in any way, and only in the first few days had she even been guarded. Never was there a more willing prisoner, and

Cadderly was confident that Dorigen would not try to escape- Even more than that, Cadderty was convinced that Dorigen would use her powers to aid Danica and Shay-leigh if they got into trouble on the way to the library.

It was settled then, with no disagreements. Ivan and Pikel rubbed their hands together often and slapped each other on the back so many times that they sounded like a gallery at a fine performance. Nothing could set a dwarf to hopping like the promise of an unguarded dragon's hoard.

Danica found Cadderly alone later that morning, while the others busied themselves for the journey. The young priest hardly noticed her approach, just stood on a clear patch of stone outside the cave, staring into the towering Snowflake Mountains.

Danica moved up and hooked her arm under Cad-derly's, offering him the support she thought he needed. To her thinking, Cadderly wasn't ready to return to the library. No doubt, he was still in turmoil over the last incident with Dean Thobicus, when he had forcefully bent the dean's mind to his bidding. Beyond that, with all that had happened - the deaths of Avery and Perte-lope and the revelation that the evil wizard Aballister was, in truth, Cadderly's own father - the young priest's world had been turned upside down. Cadderly had questioned his faith and his home for some time, and though he had finally come to terms with his loyalty to Deneir, Danica wondered if he still had a hard time thinking of the Edificant Library as his home.

They remained silent for several minutes, Cadderly staring up into the mountains and Danica staring at Cadderly.

"Do you fear a charge of heresy?" the monk asked at length.

Cadderly turned to her, his expression curious.

"For your actions against Dean Thobicus," Danica clarified. "If he has remembered the incident and realizes what you did to him, he will not likely welcome you back."

"Thobicus will not openly oppose me," Cadderly said.

Danica did not miss the fact that he had named the man without the man's title, no small matter by the rules of the order and of the library.

"Though he most likely will have recalled much of what happened when last we talked," the young priest went on, "I expect he will solidify his alliances .. . and demote or dismiss those he suspects are loyal to me."

Despite the grim reasoning, there was little trepidation in Cadderly's tone, Danica noted, and her expression revealed her surprise.

"What allies can he make?" Cadderly asked, as though that explained everything.

"He is the head of the order," Danica replied, "and has many friends in the Oghman order as well."

Cadderly chuckled softly and scoffed at the thought. "I told you before that Thobicus is the head of a false hierarchy."

"And you will simply walk in and make that claim?"

"Yes," Cadderly answered calmly. "1 have an ally that Dean Thobicus cannot resist, one who will turn the priests of my order to me."

Danica did not have to ask who that ally might be, Cadderly believed that Deneir himself was with him, that the deity had assigned him a task. Given the man's powers, Danica did not doubt the notion. Still, it bothered Danica somewhat that Cadderly had become so bold, even arrogant.

"The Oghman priests will not become involved," Cadderly went on, "for this does not concern them. The only contention I will see from them, and rightly so, will manifest itself after I unseat Thobicus as head of the Deneirian order. Bron Turman will contest me for the title of dean."

"Turman has been a leader in the library for many years," Danica said.

Cadderly nodded and seemed not at all bothered.

"His will be a powerful challenge," Danica reasoned.

"It is not important which of us ascends to the position of dean," Cadderly replied. "My first duty is to the order of Deneir. Once that is set aright, I will worry about the future of the Edificant Library."

Danica accepted that, and again the two lapsed into long minutes of silence, Cadderly staring once more at the majestic Snowflakes. Danica believed in him, and in his reasoning, but she had trouble reconciling his apparent calmness with the fact that he was out here, standing in deep contemplation, instead of at the library. Cad-derly's delay revealed the true turmoil behind his cool facade.