Page 44 of Tusks & Saddles
“Oh, you have healing abilities! That’s wonderful! I can heal, but only with my voice. It’s not nearly as impressive as your healing magic, Brother Larokson,” Amaldona said, staring at her hand with amazement.
“You can call me Welborn. The surname is… well, it’s not something my family really did until my brother went to the academy.”
Not everyone under the sun used surnames, especially in more isolated areas. For as much progress as the people of Ordia had made, there were still unexplored landscapes and oceans. Surnames were really only necessary in larger kingdoms or under specific governments. His mother hadn’t used a surname either.
“Brother Welborn it is,” Amaldona replied. “You can call me Sister Amaldona—oh, that’s right, we should go back to the sanctum! The Sun Bringer has given the people of Irongarde another scorching day under her sunlight. You must be in need of some water and good rest after your long trip. Please, follow me!”
Following Amaldona’s lead down the long dirt path, Welborn listened more than talked. His intuition told him that Amaldona was the type of person to deal with anxiety by talking a lot. It helped that Welborn could relate, given how poorly he handled introducing himself to Miss Eaves earlier in the day.
He hadn’t meant to make her uncomfortable. It was—like many things—Welborn’s curiosity that had urged him to follow her. There was something about Miss Eaves that drew his attention, though he wasn’t sure exactly what it was. She was brave and direct, a woman who could clearly take care of herself. And whileWelborn would never admit it out loud, Miss Eaves' voice had nearly made his knees weak. If he didn’t know any better, he would have sworn he was smitten.
No, no, it’s just curiosity…
It had to be just that. Welborn had just met her, he didn’t even know what she looked like. Beneath all those black skirts and armored corset, there could have been three draklings stacked on top of the other. Yet, Welborn couldn’t shake the sound of her voice. She spoke with clear diction, like someone who had to speak in front of a room. A collection of potential vocations drifted by. Tutors, professors, high clergy, scholars, bards—the list went on and on. And none of them seemed to suit her.
Miss Eaves was still on his mind as they turned the corner of the path.
“And here we are!” Amaldona cried.
Welborn stared.
The newly made temple that he had pictured in his mind was not what stood before him. In fact, there was no temple at all. The vision in his mind was nothing more than the foundation of a temple ground. A single wood wall stretched along what was to be the back of the temple. A mess of carpenter tools and wood working supplies lay strewn about the site.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Amaldona asked with glassy eyes, palms pressed together.
“It’s…” Welborn licked his dry lips. “It’s not finished.”
“Not yet!” Amaldona chirped, pushing him by the shoulders closer to the foundation. “But now that you’re here, you, High ClericSwoth, and I should be able to get the temple up and running in month or two!”
A month or two?!
Welborn tried not to panic. He had grown up in a small cabin with the vast wilderness in his backyard. However, he had grown accustomed to the lifestyle his brother’s work had afforded his adolescence and young adulthood. By the time Welborn had began his studies at the All Seer Temple—well, it had been established for quite some time. Mending robes, aiding people with healing, counsel, or prayer—balancing the templesbudget, those were the sort of things where Welborn’s talents lay.
The young cleric wasn’t above manual labor. He had always volunteered to help carry wood back to their cabin, trailing behind Boone with his decent stack of logs. But Welborn was self aware enough to recognized that he wasn’t the strongest man. He’d help the temple—it was his responsibility as given to him by the Scribe—but he was eager to correct Amaldona’s estimate on the time it would take to finish the temple.
Multiply that estimate by two or three…he thought, hopelessly as his companion dragged him onto the foundation proper.
“I…” Welborn pushed his glasses up. “I’m afraid I don’t know much in the way of architecture, but I’m happy to help where I can.”
“That’s the spirit!” Amaldona grinned. “What we don’t know is just an opportunity to learn! A gift the All Seer is sharing with the two of us.”
While she had a point, Welborn couldn’t help but panic a little. Not one but the both of them were ignorant as to how to build a temple. He could only hope that the High Cleric heldthe knowledge as he scanned the surrounding area. The temple was further out of the city proper, leaving Welborn to question as to why that was. The walk hadn’t been awful, but it would likely be quite the excursion for the people of Irongarde who lived on the other side of town.
Port Vurbali had boasted stone roads and single passenger carts. The elderly or those with limited mobility primarily used those services to travel across the large city. They were also affordable means of travel—even for the most common folk. A lot of the followers of the All Seer had used them, to the point that Welborn had grown acquainted with the carters. Yet, Welborn hadn’t seen any carts of that particular size since he arrived. Single horses, large carriages, and wagons appeared to be the normal means of travel in Irongarde.
“Amaldona…” Welborn trailed. “May I ask why High Cleric Swoth chose this location to build the sanctum?”
“Of course! High Cleric Swoth chose this location because this is where the All Seer said to build it.” She beamed, raising her arms to spin in the center of the space. “Not only was he told to build here, but there’s even a well just behind this wall. It had been abandoned a few years after the creation of Irongarde when the people decided to build a little further inland. Supposedly the water just stopped flowing one year. But when High Cleric Swoth investigated the property, he found water was flowing in the well again. He took it as a sign that the All Seer wanted us here. Come on, I’ll show you the well! We can refill your water skin, too!”
Welborn followed Amaldona around the wooden wall. Behind it, was more rough terrain and dry landscape. But true to the woman’s word, there was a well about sixty feet from the future temple. It didn’t look so different from wells Welborn had come across while traveling in the past. Old wood that had seen betterdays appeared to be the foundation of the well. Welborn eyed the rusted nails as Amaldona reached for the handle of the winch.
“Where is High Cleric Swoth, by the way?” Welborn asked.
Amaldona had turned the handle twice, yet she already looked like she was struggling. He was about to offer to help her, when she stopped at his question.
“That’s a good question…” Amaldona trailed. “I actually don’t know where he is at the moment.”
Welborn stared.
