Rocalla's Saga: Arrival

11: Meeting in the Sewers —

1054 Riika 20

Three days later, on the day that the Circle Cultists are scheduled to meet, we leave the inn after lunch and head for the center of town. Seven or eight centimeters of snow cover the ground, and my breath is clearly visible in the crisp afternoon air. Wearing a heavier woolen dress and my long, hooded cloak, I bring my quarterstaff and backpack as well. Dierdra, clothed in her brown ankle-length skirt and hooded tunic, is equipped with a long sword and bow. We are entering the inner city early in the afternoon in the hope of avoiding the town guardsmen as much as possible.

We obtain some spicy potato and rabbit stew from a tavern near the center of town, then head to the northeast corner of the inner city as the sun is setting. A dim alley about half a block from the entrance to the underground sewers gives us a place to wait. It does not provide as much cover as we would like; if anyone comes down the alley, they will see us there. But we do have a clear view of the main street, and we should be able to see anyone walking there. We take a seat on the snowy ground and begin our watch.

“We’ll have to be attentive, or we’ll miss her,” Dierdra says.

“We can take turns concentrating on the street,” I say.

“Sure, I’ll go first.”

Once we have stopped moving, the cold begins to set in. Dierdra notices a few ordinary townspeople passing by; it is not quite late enough for all of the street traffic to have gone away. Within five minutes of our taking up the watch, my teeth start to chatter.

“Are you cold?” Dierdra whispers.

“Yes, but I’ll be okay.”

“It’s a cold night.”

“And I’m not acclimated to this weather. But I’ll get used to it,” I whisper back.

We sit there huddled together for at least ninety minutes, as the darkness grows ever deeper. The night is quiet, and we see no patrols along the road. Occasionally, the distant barking of dogs breaks the silence. We only come close to being discovered once. A man or woman a couple of houses away from our hiding spot opens a door and throws some garbage into the alley. We continue to sit there waiting. If we were seen, no one cares, since no one bothers us after that.

Toward the end of our ninety-minute vigil, some interesting characters begin to appear and then disappear from our view. They look different than the usual citizens; they are hunched over, or covered up excessively, or agitated and skittish. Few carry lanterns. They are difficult to see in the deepening gloom, and we only glimpse them as they pass the end of our alley. Yet something about them sets them apart.

Dierdra is watching as I bury my nose in my hooded cloak to warm my face, pulling my arms up into its long, open sleeves. “Rocalla, is that her?” As I look up, Dierdra is pointing down the alley at a figure walking slowly up the street holding her hood closed against the weather.

I barely see her before she disappears past the end of the alley. “It could be. She has the right height and build. It’s hard to tell in the starlight, though.”

“Shall we go now?”

“Let’s wait about five minutes first. She may not be the last one to come to the meeting.”

When we do not see anyone during the next five minutes, Dierdra nudges me. “Let’s go,” she whispers.

I am too cold to want to sit in the snow any longer. “Okay,” I say, “but move slowly.”

We get up and stretch the chill out of our muscles, then walk to the end of the alley. Peeking down the street, we do not see any patrols, or anyone else for that matter. Dierdra taps my shoulder and we walk to the short lane that she investigated before. A glance down the path shows nothing but blackness, so we creep to the old shack at the end.

Dierdra listens at the door, then slowly opens it. We enter the shed and ease the door shut. It is as black as a cave inside. “Should I light a lantern?” I whisper.

“No, there’s another door here on the left. I’ll find it.”

It only takes her a minute. “Here it is. Stand back a little.”

When the door is open, there is a pale glow on the other side. Dierdra walks through first. “Watch your feet,” she whispers. “There are steps here.”

I feel, rather than see, my way down the stone stairs. A single candle is flickering on a small shelf about half way to the bottom. The steps are smooth, well worn by countless feet. When we get to the end of the stairs, I can hear dripping and flowing water. It is warmer underground, above freezing anyway, and there is a smell of waste and sewer gas.

A meter wide walkway extends to the right and left on the near side of the sewer tunnel. Dierdra points toward the left. I can barely see her hand in the dim light. “Their meeting place is that way,” she whispers. “How should we handle this?”

“Let’s just walk up and say hello. Keep your weapons put away unless we are threatened.”

Dierdra leads the way, creeping along the wall, slipping slowly and quietly through the near darkness. The patter of tiny feet can be heard running ahead of her. As we approach the corner, the light gets better and I can hear low voices speaking Franhkallan.

When we reach the side passage, Dierdra peeks around the corner, then steps back and lets me take a look. About ten meters away there is a platform on which five people are standing. Two wrought iron candle stands, heavy with candles and wax drippings, provide a fair amount of light. I see the woman that first caught my attention; she is more than half a head shorter than I am, and very slender. Her black hood is down, revealing long, curly dark hair which falls to the middle of her back. Hoops of gold adorn her ears, and a large amber colored gemstone hangs in the middle of her forehead, suspended from a golden chain. Her complexion is pale, as though she rarely sees daylight.

She is talking to a rather rotund, nearly bald man who is standing next to her. He is barely taller than she is. The three others are standing in a small group nearby, two women of average height and build with shoulder length curly blonde hair and an older looking man with short hair and a long graying beard. The two women look like twins; they are certainly at least sisters. Like most North Plessian women, they are heavily decorated with jewelry. One sister wears numerous silver chains around her neck from which hang a variety of garnets, rubies, and other red stones. Several short chains of silver dangle from each of her ears. The other sister wears similar necklaces, but hers are of gold and are adorned with various yellow and brown gems. The chains hanging off her ears are gold as well. Both wear high-waisted brown dresses of wool, with a full skirt and bell sleeves, and each is covered by a lighter brown cloak clasped at the throat with a metal chain.

I take a deep breath, tug at Dierdra’s sleeve, and step around the corner. One of the twins notices me immediately and says something. All other conversation stops abruptly, and all eyes are on me. I lean my quarterstaff against the wall and hold my empty hands up, palms forward.

“It’s okay, we would just like to talk, but unfortunately I don’t speak Franhkallan,” I say.

“Hejrte trajm,” says the older man.

“Stop,” whispers Dierdra, who has stepped around the corner and is standing behind me.

The five whisper amongst themselves for a moment, then the dark-haired woman speaks. “Stay there. What do you want?”

“We want to talk to you,” I say.

“Why?”

“I am a Traveler, a Teidhwa Zariinyeida from the Bhayanna Archipelago. I need to better understand what is happening in this city, and I am hoping that you can help me.”

“And how do we know you’re not imperial agents spying on us?”

“We’re not; neither of us is Pyrusian or from Mandelbroggen. I know that doesn’t prove anything, but…,” not knowing what else to say, I just shrug my shoulders.

“How did you find us?” the dark-haired woman asks.

I hesitate, so Dierdra answers, “I followed one of you here last week. If we had bad intentions, we could have brought more people with us tonight.”

“And how do we know you haven’t?”

“Check for yourself,” I step closer to the wall, offering to let them pass by me.

“I will,” says the short bald man. But instead of walking next to me he crosses the side channel of the sewer by a narrow stone bridge, carrying a lantern. He walks down a path on the opposite side until he comes to the main sewer again and looks down the passageway. After a minute of careful observation, he says something in Franhkallan, and then returns. All of this time, the blonde woman wearing the silver jewelry stares at me with a focused intensity.

The five of them whisper together for a couple of minutes, and then the dark-haired woman addresses me. “Two of us have decided to talk to you. The other three are going to wait for us elsewhere. If we don’t return, they will know that your intentions were evil. Come here slowly; leave your staff where it is. The red-haired one needs to leave her sword and bow, too.”

Dierdra takes off her long sword and puts down her bow, then we walk into their midst. The sisters and the older man walk past us and leave by the way we came. The bearded man pauses briefly to examine my quarterstaff before moving on, but he leaves it where it is.

The short woman’s brown eyes shift back and forth, alternately looking at Dierdra and myself. The bald man is standing back a few steps, silently watching both of us. “Who are you?” asks the woman.

“My name is Rocalla Rastama.”

“I am Dierdra Laak,” Dierdra says.

“Then you are North Plessian,” says the woman, looking at Dierdra.

“Yes, but not from Mandelbroggen,” says Dierdra. “I’m from a farm near Helkavallan. I’m new to the city.”

“What do you want to talk about?” asks the woman.

“A number of things,” I say. “Could you tell us your names?”

She hesitates a moment. “Elanor,” she says. “For now, you may call me Elanor.”

I look toward the bald man, but he remains silent. After a moment I take a breath and continue. “We are looking into certain historical events of the last fifteen years or so. Apparently, there was a bishop, Narvaan Kel, who was doing some investigating back then.”

“What of it? What would we know about some church investigation?” she asks.

I decide to try a different tack. “I come from a land where there is no prohibition against magic, so I am having some difficulty understanding the situation here.”

“Wizardry is prohibited throughout North Plessia. That is not particularly difficult to understand.”

“No, I suppose not. What is harder to comprehend is why the Pyrusian governor has that policy, when there is no such prohibition elsewhere in the Pyrusian Empire.”

“It is the will of the church. It was forbidden even before the Pyrusian conquest.”

“I see. And that prohibition continued after they came to power?”

“Yes.”

“Elanor, did the Pyrusian army use any magic or magical items during the conquest?” I ask.

Elanor looks at me quizzically, then turns toward her silent associate. He shrugs. Facing us again, she says, “I have no idea.”

“Do you or your associate have any reason to believe that anyone other than the Circle Cultists has practiced magic in this city in the last fifteen years?”

Elanor stiffens noticeably. Her associate merely raises his chin and scowls. “Why is that of interest to you?” Elanor asks.

“It bears on our investigation,” I say.

For the first time, the bald man speaks to us. “The official story is that Bishop Narvaan Kel got involved in magic and ran off when someone in the church discovered his secret.” The man’s voice is harsh, and high-pitched.

“Do you believe that story?” I ask.

“The more important question is, do you believe it?” he counters.

I look toward Dierdra. She shakes her head. “I guess that’s what we are trying to find out,” I say to Elanor and her companion.

“Well then, I guess we can’t help you,” he says.

I stand there for a minute, thinking of a different way to approach the subject, but to no avail. Dierdra looks at me, shaking her head.

I turn once more to Elanor. “Then let me just leave you with this. As events converge in the near future, be extra cautious. It is likely that the Circle Cultists are going to be implicated in some serious wrongdoing.”

The man turns angry and steps forward, “What are you talking about? You had better tell me woman, or I will blast you to cinders where you stand.”

“Why should I? You have given me nothing.”

“I have given you my presence.”

“So? I have stood here before you, and you haven’t even given me your name.”

“My name is Borojs Zet.” His voice cracks and crackles as he nearly shouts. “What do you know of Bishop Narvaan Kel’s disappearance?”

Dierdra continues to shake her head slightly.

“First tell me what you know of the use of magic in Mandelbroggen,” I say.

He looks at both of us, considering our request. After a moment, he speaks. “We have never witnessed anyone who is not a Wizard of the Circle practice magic.”

“Except for one Klujnar Dejl,” Elanor adds. “But he came from outside North Plessia, and he was tried and executed within a month of his arrival.”

“That was ten years ago,” Borojs says.

“So there is no magic outside the Circle,” I say.

“I did not say that,” Borojs says. “I only said that we have not witnessed anyone performing any. We have evidence that there is other magic afoot. Some of the Pyrusians, especially amongst the Council of Nine Ministers and the upper ranks of the army, carry magically enhanced items.”

“You know this for a certainty?” I ask.

“Yes,” says Elanor.

“So the Pyrusian imperial government is using magic then,” I say.

“Yes, they are,” Borojs says. “Although if approached about it, they would deny it, or at the very least say that they didn’t know the items were enchanted.”

“And whoever made the accusation would be tried for using wizardry,” Elanor says, “since that would be the only way to know for sure that the items were magical.”

“I find it difficult to imagine that the Pyrusian government doesn’t know that the items are enchanted,” I say.

“As do I,” says Borojs. “But if they are actively practicing magic, they hide it well. Now back to my question, what do you know about the disappearance of Bishop Narvaan Kel? After all of these years, why has this event suddenly become of current interest?”

I look to Dierdra. She gives me a slight nod, which I return. I then turn to face Elanor and Borojs. “Because Bishop Narvaan Kel’s body has been discovered,” I say.

Elanor gasps. Borojs only frowns and stares back. “When?” he asks.

“Five days ago,” I say.

“And you are investigating? Why?”

“We are not conducting the official investigation. But we are not convinced that the official inquiry will yield the truth. Politics may interfere. So we are doing some exploring on our own.”

“Then I take it that Bishop Kel did not die a natural death,” Borojs says.

I look at Dierdra, she answers for us. “No, he was clearly murdered,” she says. Elanor gasps again.

“Who knows about this?” Borojs asks.

“The church, us, and now you two,” I say.

“So the church is doing the official inquiry then,” he says. “With Bishop Rul at the head?”

“Yes.”

“How did you two get involved?”

“We discovered the body,” Dierdra says.

“And the church intends to blame the Wizards of the Circle for his murder?” Borojs asks.

“While they are taking some time to consider the matter and its implications, that seems to be their initial inclination,” I say.

“Why us?” he asks.

“From what we have gathered, Bishop Kel had made a discovery involving the use of wizardry in the week or two before he was murdered. It may be that he was killed to cover up that discovery. You are being targeted as the likely suspects.”

At that point, Elanor bursts into the conversation. “Borojs, we need to leave Mandelbroggen. Right now. We should tell the others, gather our stuff, and get out while we can.”

“And go where? You realize that winter is just setting in,” Borojs says.

“Better to suffer the cold than rot in prison or be executed. The discovery was made five days ago. An announcement and accusation could be made soon. We don’t have time to delay.”

“Get hold of yourself, Elanor,” Borojs says. Speaking to us, he continues, “So now you have talked to us. What is the next step in your investigation?”

“We are going back to where we found the body, to see what else we can learn,” I say.

“And where is that?” Borojs asks.

“The exact location is not important. I think we will keep that to those of us who are going to be exploring there.”

“Are you looking for help?”

“Having a wizard in the group would be useful. If nothing else, it would help us to determine the significance of what we find.”

“Our willingness to accompany you is going to depend on where it is that you are going,” Borojs says.

“It’s on Castle Island,” I say.

“Then you can count me out. I make it a practice to avoid crossing onto the island.”

“What will keep you from just turning us over to the tribunal once we get there?” Elanor asks.

Dierdra snorts. “Right. And as soon as you tell them who you learned about Bishop Kel from, we’ll be lined up right next to you. Bishop Rul wants us out of the way. He would love an excuse to charge us with collaborating with the Circle Cultists.”

“When are you going?” Elanor asks.

“We are starting tomorrow morning. That way we can cross over to the island for the services at the cathedral,” I say.

“You expect us to go to church services?” Elanor asks.

“It is the best way to get on the island without being asked a lot of questions by the town guardsmen.”

After a few moments of silent consideration, Elanor speaks. “Borojs, maybe we should send someone. We need to know what is going on.”

“I’m not going, so don’t even ask. There is too great a chance of getting arrested.”

“I will go with them.”

“You? A few minutes ago, you were about to pack up and leave the city before dawn. I seriously doubt that you’ll go anywhere near the island.”

“Someone needs to go, and I don’t know who else to ask. None of the others speak Gallish, which would make it hard for them to talk to Rocalla. I will go.”

“You are putting yourself in real danger of being caught,” he says. “Be extra careful, and don’t hesitate to turn on these two if they cross you.”

Turning toward us, she asks, “Where should I meet you?”

“We will leave from The Happy Pilgrim Inn in the morning,” I say.

“I will see you there,” she says. “Now please leave us, as we have much to discuss.”

“We understand,” I say. With that we take our leave.

As we are walking back to the inn, Dierdra asks, “Do you think that it is wise taking Elanor along?”

“It is a risk,” I say, “but if the Pyrusian government is using magic, we will need her to prove it. In fact, we may need her just to get through the door.”

“What do you mean?”

“If they have wizards, the door may be magically locked.”

“I do agree with bringing her along. I only wish that I knew more about her and her group of Circle Cultists.”