Of Gods and Warriors ✓

Chapter 45

"Via the Dark Saints Mail Service?" Klo coughed politely.

"Yes. What's it to you?"

"Just asking. I'll be prepared to present myself before them when their response arrives...hm, let's see. Next year?"

The mage huffed, shoving his way through the crowd and setting off down the hallway, his companion following sheepishly.

"Anything I can do to help, Sergeant Wolturs?" said Linder tiredly. His smile faded as soon as the mages were gone, beads of sweat dotting his forehead as he placed an arm on the stone wall. He hadn't healed completely yet, and the after-effect of a tremendous amount of healing sorcery was creeping in.

Now Klo rounded on him as the soldiers dispersed. "Sneaked out from the infirmary the moment Eliora turned her back, didn't you?"

"Well, I can't stay in bed forever, can I? I have to leave for Brittlerock anyway. Work has been piling up," he said, urgency in his voice.

"You'll walk the mines in this condition? Have you a death wish, Sarge?" Gods, this is like putting up with Farren.

A smile spread across her face nonetheless. "I'll tell Eliora what you've been doing, and let her deal with the rest. She's got chains for noncompliant patients-- doesn't care if it violates the healer's code of ethics."

He grinned, then leaned against the wall for support with a wince. A desperate look crossed his face.

"It's just-- Gods, I feel so...useless." His fingers brushed over the crystal dagger at his belt, which he'd guarded like a dragon ever since he'd gained consciousness and heard about Farren. Klo knew exactly what he was talking about.

"I don't wish to be dead-weight here, dragging you all back," he muttered.

"Is that why you're eager to leave for Brittlerock? Because you've assumed we'll not take care of someone who has helped us immensely in this investigation? Now that's an insult to Kinallen's hospitality." She crossed her arms.

Linder smiled sadly. "You rebuke me like I'm some new recruit."

"Ranks are arbitrary when it comes to correcting erroneous ways. I would scold King Forthwind himself if need be."

"Aye, that belief of yours is apparent from the way you clash with these mages," he said with a chuckle.

A clickety clack of a cane sounded against flagstones. "Well well well, look who has sneaked out of bed."

Linder gave a start and turned to find Eliora hobbling over to the sergeants. "That's it lad. This is the fourth time," she said. "No coffee for you for the next two weeks. That stuff makes you worry yourself sick-- and I'm just not having it."

"What?" He looked as though he'd rather be tied up with chains than give up coffee. "But, Doc--"

"The more you stand around, the more days I add. Three weeks if you don't go back this instant."

Now like the mages, he was also surrounded.

"Let me know if there's any news about Corporal Clearstrike," he said over his shoulder, before the healer quite literally dragged him out of the passage by his cloak.

In truth, there was no news she could give him, and that's the part that worried her the most. Barely three days after announcing Farren a wanted criminal, the mages had abruptly taken down the posters, and stopped searching the woods. Asking them had yielded no results, for they were tight-lipped about the whole matter, especially after the several unpleasant arguments that had followed the day of the attack. The mages refused to communicate.