Rocalla's Saga: Arrival

12: Services in the Cathedral —

1054 Riika 21

I rise with the dawn the next morning, and pack my bag with care. I take a lantern, extra oil, some rope, drinking water, and the hammer that I recently bought. Heading downstairs, six servings of bread and dwartlun are added to my pack. My dagger and gyaphla knife are sheathed, and my quarterstaff is at my side.

Elanor comes through the front door not long after. She enters the room and lowers her hood, exposing the topaz diadem on her forehead and her golden hoop earrings. Before she raises her head, her eyes have scanned the room twice. Rather than approach me, she takes a seat at a table near the door.

I walk over and sit next to her. “Good morning,” I say.

“Good morning,” she says quietly. “I can’t say that I’m totally comfortable with this.”

“None of us should be,” I say.

We sit in silence for fifteen minutes until Dierdra comes down, her red hair and jewelry glowing in the light from the fireplace. “Are we ready?” she asks.

“As ready as we can be,” I say.

Elanor and I get up and we all walk out together into the morning. The snow is still there, but it is warmer than yesterday. Heading toward the East Gate, at first we see few others on the street, but gradually more and more pedestrians join us.

When we are about half way to the bridge, Elanor breaks the silence. In a soft whisper, she asks, “Exactly where on Castle Island are we going?”

“Underground, below the cathedral,” I say, my voice low enough to prevent others on the street from hearing.

“You’re joking, I hope.”

“No, I’m not.”

Elanor stops walking. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asks softly.

“I don’t know of another way,” I say. “Come, please. We need you.”

Elanor hesitates for a couple of minutes, looking up and down the street. I begin to worry that she is going to draw attention to us. Then she murmurs “okay” and we start walking again.

By the time we arrive at the bridge, the street is full of people, and we hear the bells ringing in the cathedral tower. Fifty meters from the bridge, Elanor stops again. “I can’t do this,” she whispers.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“I can’t walk across that bridge and into the cathedral,” she says.

I put my hand on her shoulder. “We’ll be with you.”

“Don’t touch me,” Elanor says as she pulls her shoulder away.

We stand there looking conspicuous as the townspeople walk around us. “Elanor, we are going ahead, with or without you. Things will likely go much better if you are with us, but we’ll do it either way. I hope that you can find the strength in yourself to join us.”

“Why is my presence important to you?” she whispers. Elanor is facing away from the bridge now.

“I can’t be certain, but I suspect that we will encounter magic or magical works. It would help if we have someone with us who understands such things,” I say.

“I’ve never been in the cathedral. I have no idea how to act during the services. I’ll be detected, detained, and arrested,” says Elanor.

“Just do whatever everyone else does,” Dierdra says. “Trust me, no one will bother you. Besides, we plan to sit near the back.”

Elanor considers this for a moment. “Okay, I’ll come. Just give me a second,” she says. She adjusts her hair and hood, turns around, and starts walking toward the bridge. Dierdra and I follow her, and I wonder if Dierdra is beginning to grow as uneasy as I am about Elanor’s behavior.

When we arrive at the river channel, there are eight town guardsmen patrolling the bridge. They look us over carefully, but we are not questioned or stopped. Five minutes later we are on the steps of the cathedral. Elanor hesitates again, but then takes a deep breath and enters the church.

We stick to the left side of the nave, and take a seat near the back. Elanor is fidgety; she keeps twisting her head around to look everywhere. I don’t know what she is worried about, at least she understands Franhkallan and looks North Plessian, even if her hair is much darker than most of the population here. I will not have a clue as to what is happening during the service. Furthermore, it seems like everyone else in the cathedral is turning their gaze toward me. I resist the temptation to cover the tattoo on my forehead. Even after spending close to two months in Mandelbroggen, I still cannot get used to the constant reminders that I am an outsider. No one says anything, but the extended stares from people around me let me know what they are thinking. All of the attention that I am getting is not helping to calm Elanor, either. I can see her sinking ever further into her pew. Fortunately, Dierdra is sitting between us, and I hope that she will be able to provide some guidance during the next couple of hours, although I do not know how long it has been since she has attended church services.

It is easy to talk with confidence amongst others that I know. But sitting here waiting for services to start, I feel all of my self-confidence draining out of me. I am embarking on a course of action that could take me far from the safe comfort of being a neutral observer. And I am taking a good friend with me. I close my eyes, bow my head, and pray for the strength to see this adventure through.

When I open my eyes, I see that the bishop and three priests have gathered up front. The choir stands up, and everyone else joins them. Soon the cathedral is filled with the sound of hundreds of voices joined in a Franhkallan hymn.

The services are long. At first, I am very attentive as I observe everyone and make certain that I sit and stand at the proper times. But being unable to understand anything that is being said, I rapidly become bored. I catch myself staring at the winding patterns in the marble on the floor, or contemplating the grain of the wood on the back of the pew in front of me.

From time to time, I look over at Elanor. She is sitting there quietly, her face expressionless. Despite knowing the language, she neither responds to the prayers nor sings along with the hymns. Dierdra, meanwhile, sings along a bit too enthusiastically, as though she is either trying to make up for our silence or her own poor attendance in the past.

The services seem very structured; there is a lot of singing and chanting and communal recitation of memorized prayers. Then, after some readings from their holy book, Bishop Rul steps forward and begins to speak.

The sermon is in Franhkallan, so I don’t understand more than a few words of it. When I turn toward Dierdra, she has a concerned expression on her face. Then I look at Elanor, and see the burning intensity of hatred in her eyes. She stares intently at the bishop, never shifting her gaze. The shy, meek woman of this morning has the determined look of a hardened warrior.

Another hymn and prayer follow. Then the services end. We stay seated while the bulk of the people file out the back. Once the aisles are almost clear, I tap Dierdra’s knee and motion for her and Elanor to move to the outer aisle.

“We need to move now, before this place empties out too much,” I whisper to Elanor and Dierdra.

There are still knots of people gathered in the church talking to each other, but many of them are beginning to disperse. As the crowd thins out and we approach the area of the altar, my stomach churns with nervousness. While I was in the back of the cathedral, I did not have to worry about any of the priests seeing me, let alone recognizing me. Now there is less cover, I am much closer, and my darker skin and tattooed forehead call out for attention.

We head straight for the left front corner of the cathedral, where the door that leads to the gardens is located. As we approach the altar, I pull my hood up over my head, then press my right hand into my pocket, carrying my quarterstaff like a walking stick with my left. I walk steadily forward, looking down at the floor in front of me.

My heart is pounding as we pass near the railing that separates the central dais from the rest of the church. I move along, hoping that no one notices me. Once I am past, I discretely glance to my right, only to find Bishop Rul staring in our direction. But it is not me that he is looking at. He is watching Elanor, who is a few paces behind me. Still walking forward, I risk taking a peek behind me. Elanor is glaring at the bishop, with a burning intensity. I turn forward again, too quickly, as my heart slams even more forcefully beneath my breasts. I have to concentrate to keep from running toward the door. When I reach it, I open it without hesitation and slide through.

Wasting no time, I rush forward to the door hidden at the end of the passageway. The short hallway that we are in is decorated with carved wooden panels on two sides. Having been on the other side of the far wall, I know that there is a door there, although it is well concealed from this side. I push the smooth wood of the center panel, and it opens away from me.

The stairs down into the basement are on the right. There is no light in this corner room except for what passes through the stained glass windows far above. The dimly lit stairs fade to darkness below us.

I turn and motion for Elanor and Dierdra to follow me. Together we descend into the blackness. By the time we reach the basement floor we have slowed to a crawl, as we feel our way forward. I keep my right hand on the rough wall beside me; Elanor is holding onto the back of my cloak.

“Do you think we could use a light?” Elanor asks.

“Shhh,” I hiss. “Not until we get away from the stairs and out of the first room.”

Keeping my hand on the wall, we continue until we reach the corner, then turn left. After a few steps, we come to the first entryway. My eyes are starting to adjust to the darkness; I can just make out a hint of the next length of wall ahead of me. Deciding to continue to the second archway, I step forward into the blackness, almost stumbling on the uneven floor. With one hand I extend my quarterstaff forward to aid me in finding the far wall. After a few lurching steps, I find it, walk forward and place my right hand securely on the wall once again. Up above us I can hear the opening and closing of the door leading outside.

We continue to the second archway, at which point I turn right and enter the large room beneath the main part of the cathedral. As we descend the sloped floor, Elanor loses her balance and falls into me. She catches herself, wrapping her arms around my waist, but Dierdra lets out a startled gasp that breaks the quiet.

“Okay,” I whisper, “stop here.” I crouch down and take off my pack. Fumbling in the dark, it takes me several minutes to find my lantern and the flint and steel I need to light it. Once it is lit, I adjust the lantern’s cover so that only a narrow beam lights our way. “Let’s go,” I whisper.

I lead our party across the floor and into the Sikorallan ruins. We travel from room to room, moving as fast as we can across the uneven floors. Once we are seven rooms back from the entrance, I slow to a cautious walk.

“I don’t remember how many more rooms there are until we reach the place where the bodies were found, but I think we are getting close,” I say in a low voice. “I don’t expect to find anyone down here so soon after the church services, but we should be careful.”

From that point on, we move cautiously, peeking into each successive room before entering it. Four rooms later, we find the disassembled wall behind which Bishop Kel’s body was chained. Fortunately, no one else is here.

“That’s where we found the body,” I tell Elanor. “We’ll spend the day back here.” I lead Dierdra and Elanor back into the partially demolished room where Dierdra found the coins several days ago. I have to take my pack off in order to squeeze through the narrow opening, but Elanor’s petite frame glides easily into the space. Once inside, we pick our way across the floor to find a place where we can sit amongst the bricks without making noise.

We eat some bread and dwartlun, then turn the lantern down low and take turns keeping watch, so that we can get some rest and maybe a nap. Elanor is very quiet, and in the near total absence of light her dark hair and black clothes make her invisible. The only sounds come from our breathing; the noise that we make when we shift position seems terribly loud in comparison.

The hours drag by. The extreme boredom of the wait is broken only three times. Each of those times we hear the sound of footsteps and can see a flicker of brightness in the next room as someone passes through the chamber near the murder site. My heartbeat quickens, then quiets again as the receding footsteps move ever farther away and the darkness becomes complete once more.

Eventually, the faint sound of church bells, muffled by our distance underground, announces the call to vespers. I turn up the lantern, stand up, and stretch. Dierdra awakens from her nap, sprawled out on the floor. Elanor is still sitting where she was when we arrived, absorbed in her thoughts.