Page 146 of Paladin's Faith

“If he’s not really possessed, do you think they’ll let him live?” Marguerite asked.

Judith and Wren looked at each other, then back at her. “Maybe,” said Wren. “I won’t swear that they won’t shoot first and ask questions later.”

“They are deeply committed to their purpose,” Judith added.

“You can say that again,” muttered Marguerite. She absolutely believed Jorge when he said that Shane was his friend, and she also absolutely believed that he would put a sword through the other man’s heart without hesitation.

The truly infuriating thing was that she knew exactly why the Dreaming God’s people were doing it, and under other circumstances, she would probably have agreed that it was the right thing to do.

Judith tapped her fingertips together. “Given what you say, I think there is a chance—a slim one, but a chance—that Shane can be saved from the demon. It is much more difficult to save someone from an arrow in the eye.” She nodded. “I will help you.”

Marguerite sagged with relief. There was something about Judith that inspired…not confidence, exactly. She feels like a power. A strange, rather damaged power, to be sure, but one that I would much rather have on my side.

“Right,” said Marguerite. “Judith, Wren, we’ll leave tonight. Davith…” She glanced at him, shaking her head. “Go where you please. Any debt you owed me is long since paid. I’d prefer you didn’t go running to the Sail to tell them about Ashes, but if you do, I suspect the paladins will be more than able to handle it.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” said Ashes. “They loaned me a scribe this morning. There are three sets of instructions for my salt-maker already, and the scribe promised to make another dozen tonight. We’ll send copies to every temple of the Forge God within a hundred miles.” She looked more than a little smug.

Davith scowled fiercely, looked at Marguerite, looked at Wren, then looked at the ceiling. “Fine. That’s fine. That’s just fine. Gaaaaah.” He rapped his fingers on the arm of the chair, stood up, kicked over a footstool, set it back upright, then dropped into his chair again and muttered something almost too low for Marguerite to hear.

“What was that?” she asked.

“I said,” Davith growled, enunciating every word, “I’ll come with you.”

“What?” said Marguerite.

“What?” said Wren.

“Heh,” said Ashes.

Judith said nothing, but one of her eyebrows lifted a fraction.

“The stupid armor-plated bastard saved my life, okay?” said Davith. “And I’m not saying I like him, but…” He made a frustrated gesture that was somehow both meaningless and surprisingly eloquent.

“My god, Davith, is that guilt I’m hearing?” asked Marguerite.

He glared at her. “I try to pay my debts. Besides, there’s something you’re forgetting.”

“Oh?”

His annoyed expression vanished under a broad smile. “You’re going to want to move fast, and I know for a fact that I’m the only one here who knows how to take care of a horse.”

FIFTY

“This plan is far too complicated,” muttered Shane, looking over the battlements atop the single tower. “It has too many moving parts. Plans like that fail too easily.”

Wisdom leaned against the stone beside him. “Probably,” it agreed. “Are any of them fixable?”

The paladin sighed. It was an odd thing, but when he looked away from Wisdom, his body did not register the presence of another being beside him. His eyes and ears said that the demon existed, but his skin and his nerves did not.

“Probably not. What do you plan to do if they kill me before I get back to you?”

“There will be an archer stationed up here to shoot this body,” said Wisdom tranquilly. “That, at least, I can plan for. And if the archer is lost, I will dash myself against the stones. But I would prefer to have you do it.”

“Thanks,” said Shane. “I think.”

Wisdom grinned at him. “Take it as a compliment, paladin. Very few people are chosen to kill a god.”

Which put him in mind of Lady Silver and Beartongue and the Saint. He hoped that Wren would be able to carry the news to the Temple of the Rat in his stead.

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