Heir of Death

Ch. 8: Soft Deceit

"What in Torvan's bloody, fucking hell did you do?" Calix demanded, trying to sit up but his muscles felt about as sturdy as bread dough.

The priest frowned, using one hand on Calix's shoulder to hold him down. 

"You shouldn't say that one's name so lightly." He tucked a strand of hair behind an ear, dark eyes flicking to what Calix assumed was a tapestry of Torvan. A curious little grin lifted the corner of his mouth before he frowned again. "Stay still. The effects will wear off soon enough."

"What—"

"Did I do to you," the priest said, cutting him off. A bored, weary expression crossed his lovely face. "If I answer that, what will you give me in return?"

Calix opened and closed his mouth, puzzled by what he'd said. So he opted for something easier. "What's your name?"

The priest blinked slowly, the white paint around his eyes cracking as he scowled. "I...suppose that is fair trade, seeing as how I know yours." He sighed, resting his chin in his hand again. "Lanxi. Bai Lanxi"

Calix licked his lips, slowly stretching out his fingers. Feeling for the cool metal of his sword. "It's not Sorveti."

Lanxi's mouth quirked. "No."

"What is it?"

"Do you really want to spend the dawn questioning my heritage or would you like to discuss the things you saw?"

Calix closed his eyes, flashes of memory bright and shining behind his lids. He took in a slow breath, reining his temper in tight. Finally, he looked up at the priest. "Will you help me to sit?"

Lanxi quirked an eyebrow, but didn't speak as he offered a hand decorated with silver rings. He pulled Calix up, helping him to lean against the center post of the tent before he sat in front of the general, legs crossed and back straight.

The cold sweat coating him made Calix shiver as he stared at the priest, trying to get a read on the man. After a few moments of this, he decided it would be easier to understand the mind of a rock. Calm and still as an undisturbed pond, Lanxi sat patiently, revealing no emotion beyond attentiveness. He made Calix uneasy. 

"What was in the powder?" he finally asked, not yet ready to lend any credence to what he'd just experienced. "Why didn't it affect you?"

"What are you really doing up here in the frozen north?" Lanxi fired back. "What did you see that made you weep so?"

Self-conscious, Calix wiped at his face with the back of his sleeve. He frowned at the priest. "I thought you were supposed to answer my questions. Provide me guidance."

"Ask for guidance and that is what you will receive." Lanxi gave a smile. "If you want something more, you will need to offer more." He swept his hand behind Calix. "After all, that is generally how it works."

Calix craned his neck to peer over his shoulder, frowning at the table of offerings situated between two more braziers. 

"I saw my dead mother," he snapped. "What was in the powder?"

Lanxi didn't so much as blink. "Mandrake, black henbane, the sap of a tree we call lung li, belladonna and a few mushrooms to help you relax."

Calix had never been very good at botany or herbology, however a few of those plants were rather familiar. "You poisoned me?"

The priest gave a fox-grin. "Only a little. Just enough to show you what you needed to see."

Strength was starting to seep back into his muscles. Calix flexed his fingers, trying to banish the numbness there. He mulled that over. He hadn't died, but really it was the principle of the thing. The priest had poisoned him.