The Cleric Quintet: Night Masks

 

"I am Cadderly, of the Order of Deneir," the young priest replied. He turned to Danica and shrugged, embarrassed and almost apologetic, as soon as he had spoken the last few words.



"We are making our way back to the Dragon's Codpiece, the inn of Fredegar Harriman" Danica explained, tossing Cadderly a sidelong glance, "to check on the friends we were forced to leave behind."



"Forced?" Cadderly and Danica knew the question was a test. The guardsman's eyes remained narrow and searching as he continued to scrutinize them.



"You know what occurred," Cadderly replied without hesitation.



The guardsman nodded gravely, apparently satisfied with the explanation. "Come, and quickly," he bade them, and he used his horse to nudge aside any who stood to block the couple's progress.



Neither Cadderly nor Danica enjoyed that stroll down Lakeview Street, fearful that among those many watching eyes loomed some belonging to their assassin enemies. And even more fearful to the companions, considering the guard's grim tone, loomed the possibility that the victory back at the inn had not been without cost.



Their fears did not diminish when they passed the inn two doors down, where Ivan and Pikel had been staying, to find that the front rail, the window above the door, and the wall beside the door all had been smashed apart. The innkeeper, sweeping glass and wood shards from his front porch, regarded the two suspiciously, not looking away and not blinking once as they passed.



Cadderly paused and sighed deeply when the Dragon's Codpiece came into sight. He spotted the balcony of his room, the place he had used as a sanctuary from the harshness of the world for the past several weeks. The front rail lay in the street; one plank, the one that had supported Danica's ride to safety, hung out at a weird diagonal angle. There were no bodies in the street (thank the gods!), but Cadderly saw a crimson stain on the cobblestone beneath his room, and a larger one halfway across the wide street. Danica, apparently sensing his distress at the sight, hooked her arm around his and lent him support. To her surprise, Cadderly pulled away. She looked at him, to see if she had done something wrong, but his return stare was not accusing.



He stood straight and tall, took another deep breath, and squared his shoulders.



Danica understood the significance of those simple acts, understood that, this time, Cadderty had accepted what he had been forced to do. This time, he would not run away, as he had in Shilmista; he would meet the threat head-on, strike back against those who meant to strike at him. But could he do so, Danica wondered, without ghosts Kke Bar-jin's hovering beside him for the rest of his days?



Cadderly walked past her, then smiled and waved when "Oo oi!" sounded from the door of the Dragon's Codpiece and Pikel Bouldershoulder stepped onto the front porch. The dwarf held Cadderly's lost walking stick high above his head and waved excitedly with a heavily bandaged hand.



Danica waited a moment longer and let Cadderty get far ahead of her, considering the perceived shift in the young priest's demeanor. This continuing stream of violent events was forcing Cadderty to grow up, to thicken his hide, in a hurry. Violence could be a numbing thing, Danica knew; no battle is ever harder to accept and fight than the first, no killing blow made with more reluctance than the first.



Watching her lover stride confidently to join Pike!, the young monk was afraid.



By the time Danica caught up to Cadderty, he stood silently inside the inn with both dwarves (to her relief) and with a teary-eyed Fredegar Harriman. Danica held in check her elation at Ivan and Pikel's good heath, though, for she followed Cadderly's gaze to a table in the hearth room, to Headmaster Avery's sprawling corpse. The chest was torn wide and revealed a gaping hole where the heart should have been.



"My Brennan," broken Fredegar was saying. "They killed my poor Brennan!"



Cadderly let his gaze drift about the sacked room, to the broken stairwell, the shattered chandelier atop its rubble to the charred floor beside the long bar; to a young, unmarked body gently laid beside that bar; and to the row of six corpses, one of them still releasing wisps of smoke from under the cloth that covered it.



"Four of them, at least, got away," Ivan informed them.



"You will find another one on the roof," Danica remarked.



"Oo oi," Pikel chirped, snapping his stubby fingers and motioning for one of the guards to go and check.



"Maybe only three got away," Ivan corrected.



"Seven got away," Cadderly said absently, remembering the three men who had assaulted him and Danica from the water, and the four others in the pursuing boat.



Ivan shook his yellow-bearded face, then grumbled, "Well, there's a pack of trouble for ye."



Cadderly hardly heard the dwarf. The young priest walked slowly across the cluttered floor toward the body of the man who had served him as a father for as long as he could recall. Before he got there, though, a tall man, a city soldier, intercepted him.



"Vfe have some questions," the man explained gruffly.



Cadderly eyed him dangerously. "They will wait."



"No," the man retorted. "They will be answered when I say. And fully! I'll brook no - "



"Leave." It was a simple word, spoken quietly and in controlled tones, but, to the city guardsman, it struck like a thunderbolt. The man stood up very straight, glanced about curiously, then headed for the front door. "Come along," he instructed his fellow soldiers, who, after exchanging surprised glances, obeyed without complaint.



Ivan started to say something to Cadderly, but Danica put a hand on the dwarfs shoulder to stop him.



Cadderly wouldn't have heard Ivan anyway. The young priest moved beside Avery's torn body and wiped a tear from his gray eyes. Avery had gotten in the way of something that really did not concern him, Cadderly suspected, and the notion brought disgust to the young man, brought yet another layer of guilt to his growing burden.



But it wasn't guflt that drove Cadderly now; it was sorrow, a grief more profound than any be had ever known. So many images of Avery's fife flowed through the young priest. He saw the portly headmaster on the lane outside the Edificant Library, trying to enjoy a sunny spring day but continually hampered by Perrival, the white squirrel, who dropped twigs on him from the branches above. He saw Avery at Brother Chauntideer's midday canticle, the headmaster's face made content, serene, by the melodious song to Avery's cherished god.



How different that fatherly face seemed now, its mouth open in a final scream, an unanswered plea for help that did not come.



Most of all, Cadderly remembered the many scoldings the headmaster had given him, Avery's blotchy face turning blight red with frustration at CadderJy's apparent indifference and irresponsibility. It took the insidious chaos curse for the headmaster to finally admit his true feelings for Cadderly, to admit that he considered Cadderly a son. In truth, though, Cadderly had known it all along. He never could have upset Avery so completely and so many times if the headmaster had not cared for him.



Only now, standing beside the dead man, did Cadderly realize how much he had loved Avery, this man who had served as father.



It occurred to Cadderly that Avery should not have been down in the hearth room at such an early hour, especially not dressed so informally, so vulnerably. Cadderly digested that information almost subconsciously, filing it away with the myriad other facts he had collected and scrutinized since his flight from the assassin band.



"My Brennan, too," Fredegar blubbered, coming to Cadderly's side, draping an arm over Cadderly's shoulder to lean on the young priest.



Cadderly was more than willing to give his gentle friend the needed support, and he followed the innkeeper's lead across the floor toward the bar.



The contrast between Brennan's body and Avery's was startling. The teenager's face showed neither horror nor any signs of surprise. His body, too, seemed intact, with no obvious wounds.



It appeared that he had simply, peacefully, died. The only thing Cadderly could think of was poison.



"They could not tell me how" Fredegar wailed. "The guardsman said he wasn't choked, and there's no blood anywhere. Not a mark on his young form." Fredegar panted desperately to find his breath.



"But he's dead," the innkeeper said, his voice rising to a wail. "My Brennan is dead!"



Cadderly shuffled to the side under the weight as Fredegar fell into him. Despite his sincere grief at the sight of Brennan, the death had raised a riddle that Cadderly could not leave unanswered. He remembered the horrible shadows he had seen dancing atop Brennan's shoulders that night at supper. He recalled Danica's story, her dream, and knew beyond doubt that someone, something, had possessed the young man, then discarded him.



Perhaps some lingering trace of what had happened remained to be seen. Perhaps telltale shadows remained on Brennan's shoulders. Cadderly opened his mind, let the song of Deneir into his consciousness again, despite the continuing, painful throb in his head.



Cadderly saw a ghost.



The spirit of Brennan sat atop the bar, looking forlorn and lost, staring with pity at his distraught father and with disbelief at his own pale body. He looked up at Cadderly, and his nearly translucent features twisted with surprise.



All the material world around the spirit became blurry as Cadderly allowed himself to fall more into Brennan's state.



Poison? his mind asked the lost soul, though he knew he had not spoken a word.



The spirit shook its head. I have nowhere to go.



The answer seemed so very obvious to Cadderly. Go back to your father.



Brennan looked at him with confusion.



The song played louder in Cadderly's throbbing head, its volume becoming ferocious. The young priest would not let it go, though, not now. He saw Brennan's spirit tentatively approach the corpse, seeming confused, hopeful yet terribly afraid. To Cadderly's eyes, the room around the spirit went dark.



Everything went dark.



"By the gods," Cadderly heard Danica whisper.



"Oooo," Pikel moaned.



A thump on the floor beside him jolted Cadderly awake. He was kneeling on the hard floor, but, beside him, Fredegar was out cold.



In front of him, young Brennan sat up, blinking incredulously.



"Cadderly," Danica breathed. Her shivering hands grasped the young priest's trembling shoulders.



"How do you . . . feel?" Cadderly stammered to Brennan.



Brennan's chuckles, as much sobs as laughter, came out on a quivering, breaking voice reflecting astonishment, as though he really didn't know how to answer the question. How did he feel? Alive!



The young man looked to his own hands, marveled that they again moved to his command. Fists clenched suddenly, and he punched them up into the air, a primal scream erupting from his lips. The effort cost the lad his newfound physical bearings, though, and he wobbled and swooned.



Ivan and Pikel rushed to catch him.



Cadderly steadied himself suddenly, his gaze snapping back across the room, to Headmaster Avery. The determined young priest rose briskly, brushed Danica aside, and stalked to the corpse.



"They took out his heart," Danica said to him meekly. Cadderly turned on her, not understanding.



"That is their usual method," the young monk, familiar with the dark practices of the wretched Night Masks, replied. "It prevents an easy recalling of the spirit."



Cadderiy growled and turned back to Avery, back to the task at which he would not fail. He called up the song, forcefully, for it would not readily come to his weary mind. Perhaps he should rest before continuing, he thought as the notes continued on a discordant path. Perhaps he had pushed the magic too far this day and should rest before delving back into the spiritual world.



"No!" Cadderly said aloud. He dosed his eyes and demanded that the music play. The room blurred.



Avery's ghost was not about.



Cadderly, though his material body did not move, looked all about the room. He saw marks of blackness, supernatural shadows, on the floor beside the bodies of the dead assassins and sensed a brooding evil there.



The spirits were gone, and Cadderly got the impression their journey had been forced, that they had been torn away.



feuld they receive punishment in an afterlife?



The thought did not bring compassion to Cadderly. He stared hard at the puddles of residual blackness. He thought of recalling one of those lost spirits, to question it about Avery's spirit, but dismissed the notion as absurd. The fate awaiting these souls had nothing to do with what awaited the goodly headmaster.



With sudden insight, Cadderly reached with his thoughts beyond the parameters of the room, sent out a general call to the heavens for his lost mentor's departed spirit.



The answer he received did not come in the form of words, or even images. A sensation swept over Cadderly, an emotion imparted to him by Headmaster Avery - he knew it came from Avery! It was a calmness, a contentment beyond anything Cadderly had ever experienced, divine.



A bright light gave way to nothingness. . . .



Ivan and Danica helped the young priest to his feet. Cadderly, coming fully from his trance, looked at Danica with a most sincere smile.



"He is with Deneir," Cadderly told her, and the joy in his voice prevented any reply.



Cadderly realized that his headache had flown. He, too, had found contentment.



"What do ye know?" Ivan asked him, and Cadderly understood that the dwarf was not speaking of Avery's fate. Danica also looked at the enlightened young priest curiously.



Cadderly did not immediately answer. Pieces of this puzzle seemed to be falling from the sky. Cadderly looked over to the dead assassins, then looked to Brennan and Frede-gar, in the thick of an unabashed hug.



Cadderly knew where he would find more of those tumbling puzzle pieces.



The passing hours came as reassurance to Ghost, who sat quietly in his room, going about his day as routinely as he could. Massacres were certainly not a common thing in Carradoon, but these were troubled times and Ghost was confident that the news would grow stale soon enough. Then young Cadderly would become vulnerable to him once more.



Thoughts of abandoning the mission had crossed the assassin's mind soon after he had learned that Cadderly had escaped - and that many of his Night Masks had not. He dismissed those thoughts, though, choosing instead to personalize this kill even more. He would get Cadderly, get him through one of his friends, and the young priest's death would be all the sweeter.



Ghost was a bit dismayed when he saw Bogo depart, more because he wanted Bogo to serve as a scapegoat if Cadderly and his friends closed in on the truth than for any practical services the wizard might provide.



The wicked man looked out his window at the afternoon sun's reflection on quiet Impresk Lake. He saw the bridge to the island dearly, saw the masons huddled out there, in boats and on the structure itself, studying the wide break.



Ghost shook his head and chuckled. He had already contacted \&nder telepathically, back at the farm, and knew that Cadderly had precipitated that break. Four men had returned to the farm - four out of fourteen.



Ghost continued to stare at the gaping break in the great bridge. Cadderly had beaten them; Ghost was impressed.



But he was not worried.



Every detail of the battle scene - Avery's presence in the hearth room, where he should not have been; the curious, continued absence of Kierkan Rufo, who had come down from his room only long enough to identify Avery's body and answer the city guards' few questions; even the peculiar scorch mark on Pikel's tunic - registered clearly in Cadderly's mind, came together in the overall picture he was forming.



He spoke with Brennan, though the young man's recollections were foggy at best, dreamlike. That fact alone confirmed Cadderly's suspicions of what had happened to Danica. The young priest made a point of telling Brennan to keep out of sight, and bade Fredegar to not tell anyone that his son was alive again.



"\ftfe must press on quickly," Cadderly explained to his three companions, gathered around him in an out-of-the-way room. "Our enemies are confused for now, but they are stubborn and will regroup."



Danica leaned back in her seat and placed her feet on the table in front of her. "You are likely the most weary among us," she replied. "If you are ready to continue, then so are we."



"Oo oi!" Ivan piped, before Pikel got the chance. The yellow-bearded dwarf offered his surprised brother an exaggerated wink, and Pikel promptly tugged hard at Ivan's beard.



Although it took him and Danica several moments to quiet the boisterous brothers, Cadderly was glad for the distraction, for the break in the exhausting tension.



"You have spoken with the guard?" Cadderly asked Danica when order was finally restored.



"Just as you suspected," the young woman replied.



Cadderly nodded; another piece fell squarely into place. "The wizard will not be there for long."



"But are ye ready to battle the likes of that one?" Ivan had to ask.



Cadderly chuckled and stood, straightening his trousers, still moist from his dip in the lake. "You make it sound as if I am going alone," he quipped.



Ivan was up in an instant, bouncing his huge axe atop one shoulder. "Can't trust that type," the dwarf explained, wanting to clarify his atypical hesitance. "Dangerous sort."



"Can't trust an angry priest, either," Cadderly retorted, taking up his walking stick and sending his spindle-disks into a few short up-and-down snaps.



"Dangerous sort," Danica finished for him, and after the sights the young woman had experienced that day, the tremendous magical powers Cadderly had revealed, the words were spoken without any hint of sarcasm.



I Telled Ye So



ogo Rath paced anxiously in his small room. He kicked a basket aside and watched a cockroach skitter across the floor, seeking the shadows under the bed.



"Flee, little bug," the young wizard remarked.



Bogo flipped his stringy brown hair to one side and ran his fingers through it repeatedly. He was the little bug.



He looked out the window, which was too small to get any real view, but enough to tell him that the afternoon light finally was beginning to wane. Bogo meant to leave the city at twilight, disguised among the host of beggars that departed Carradoon every evening.



Outside the gates, he could conjure a magical mount, and his ride to Castle Trinity would be swift and unhindered. The thought of getting far from Carradoon, from the young priest and his cohorts, appealed to Bogo, but the thought of facing Aballister did not. Even worse, if Ghost succeeded in finishing the task, the assassin's return to Castle Trinity would cast an unfavorable, cowardly light on Bogo.



"Boygo," he muttered. He figured he had better get used to hearing the name. Aballister and Dorigen would not soon let him forget his cowardice. The lone consolation for the young man was the fact that he had arranged the library headmaster's death.



The cockroach skittered back out for an instant, zipped across the floor and under the folds of the oversized curtain.



"That will silence them!" Bogo said to the roach. Especially Dorigen, who had been so humiliated in Shilmista Forest.



A smile found its way through the tension on Bogo's boyish face. He had killed a headmaster!



A glance at the window told him it was time to start for the western gate. He selected the components for a spell that would alter his appearance and placed them in a convenient pocket, then took up his pack.



He put it right back down when he heard chanting in the hall.



"Fire and water," Cadderly said in an intense, monotone voice. "Fire and water, the elements of protection.



"Fire and water."



Danica and Pikel stood in front of the young priest, between Cadderly and the door. Danica flipped her hair out of her face and looked to the stairway, to the top of the crouching, nervous innkeeper's balding head. Every so often, the man peeked over the top stair, fearful for his property.



Still, Cadderly had easily convinced the man to let the three up the stairs to Bogo's room. Danica looked to Cadderly again, who chanted more forcefully now with his eyes closed and his hands waving up and down in front of him, creating a magical tapestry. The young priest had shaved his beard before they had left the Dragon's Codpiece, and now he appeared much like his old self.



And yet, he did not. Danica couldn't explain it, but somehow Cadderly appeared more confident with every move. His encounter - whatever had happened - with Avery's spirit had put a sense of calm on top of that growing confidence as well.



Danica hadn't questioned him about it, but she sensed that Cadderly now walked with the knowledge that his god was with him.



"Fire and water," Cadderly chanted, "the elements of protection." As one of his hands came up, he loosed a few drops of conjured water against the door. As the other came up right behind, Cadderly sent from it a gout of flame.



The fire hit the wet door with a hiss, the signal for Pikel.



"Oo oi," the dwarf chirped and slammed his club like a battering ram against the door. The weapon popped cleanly through the thin wood, creating a fair-sized hole but not forcing the door open. As the dwarf retracted his club, Danica realized Pikel's mistake. She reached over the dwarf, turned the handle, and easily opened the door - out.



"Oh," the deflated Pikel remarked.



Bogo's chanting from inside the room joined Cadderly's continuing prayer when the door came open. The wizard held a small metal rod in front of him, a conductive component that Danica had seen before.



Pikel had, too, and both he and the woman dove to the side, expecting a burst of lightning.



Cadderly didn't move, didn't flinch. An almost transparent, slightly shimmering field of energy appeared in the open portal.