Chapter 7: Tithes, Temples, and Treachery

Landar

I lifted the sack from off the back of the wagon, and placed it with the others. The temple attendant, a blue robed priestess with a pretty face and youthful eyes marked something off on her tally sheet.

“Thank you. Your liege lords request for an apprentice has been noted. You should receive a response within the next few days. The day after the tax court at the latest.” She signed a slip of paper and handed it to Farmer who tipped his hat to her.

“Thank you ma’am. May the mother bless you.”

“And you Goodman farmer. Now, please walk me through the in kind donations you brought?” She gestured to a pile of quilts, furs, and other quality items from the farmers province. Many farmers and ranchers couldn’t pay their tithes and taxes using coins, as it was too scarce in our area. Forcing them to pay using in-kind donations.

Thoughts of small animals carved from scrap wood given every seventh day filled my mind. Smiling at the happy memories, my eyes drifted over the courtyard in earnest. Taking it in, and looking for any sign of the rampant destruction that had been wrought only a few years prior. Here and there I could see spots where new stone had been added to old, and the off-coloration was almost faded enough to match. But not exactly, not yet.

There were guards everywhere, and few of them were Clerics from the Grey. Almost everyone there in the courtyard wore blue robes. And the sight of knights in glowing blue armor brought back echoes of that night. My mother screaming, my father fighting until he was overmatched, and Mother Margaret desperately throwing everything she had at a man. A man who had led such knights.

My jaw clenched. Now’s not the time, I told myself. These aren’t the same people, I'm sure of it. Almost none of them look very much older than I do. I sighed, and let the tension in my jaw loose, and my eyes wandered over the faces in the crowd. The guards were alert, but not unfriendly. The priests and priestesses were efficient, but accommodating to the peasants who unloaded their burdens, while the few members of the Grey priesthood I saw were hurried, busy with their own work. They hardly seemed involved in the tithe work at all.

Much has changed since I've been away. This used to be something only the gray did. I wonder what . . . for a moment as my eyes wandered the area around the courtyard I thought I saw . . . Tabitha?

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“Wait . . .” my sister, or someone that looked very much like Tabitha was walking in blue robes, carrying baskets of food and clothing on the far side of the courtyard. She carried a remarkable resemblance, only . . . only she was older. And clearly pregnant.

The woman was scowling up at a knight in blue as he directed the men of another wagon further into the temple's courtyard. She was clearly displeased by something.

That . . . that can’t be. I let my eyes drift to others for a bit, and I started recognizing a pattern. Many of the older blue female priestesses were pregnant. And . . . and all of them wore leather collars. They were ornate things, delicate, so much so I had originally seen them as little more than chokers or necklaces.

I pushed a trickle of mana through my mental construct, and out into the world, and Analyzed the nearest one. It thrummed lightly with several colors, indicating different types of magic present.

Item

Description: Choker - Collar - ??

Magic School: Divination, Enchantment, Sending

Magic Type: Air, Wind, Mental

Mental? That clinched it for me. They were all slaves. And those pretty collars they wore were slave collars.

My jaw clenched again, and my rage nearly boiled over. My hand twitched to my ax, and I nearly did something very stupid, that would have left me very dead. I took a deep breath, now was not the time. Later perhaps. But I had learned my lesson about acting without a proper plan, and preparation last time I had fought the blue. Winging it was not something I was willing to do. Not again.

Especially after what I had learned the night before about my father, I was sure more now then when I had first seen her that the woman I had spotted, who was scowling up at the knight even now, was my sister. Five years older, and now a slave.

I turned my back on the scene, and marched back to the wagon.

“Alright boy, they say we’re good to go. Off to the Lord Collector’s then?”

I nodded, afraid if I tried to speak I would let my rage seep into my voice.

As the Farmer turned the wagon and guided the horses through the throng of people, I thought about that night. About my own failures, and most of all, what my father had done after.

“Aye, I know the one. South gate captain?” The barkeep had said the night before. “Know the man well. Or at least have the last few years. Haven’t seen him around in a while. He got tangled up in that nasty bit of business about five years ago, and whatever happened to him, broke him. Least wise I can tell anyway. Been in and out of taverns since. Haven’t seen hide-nor-hair of him for about six months though. Father send he’s safe. Was a good man, if a bit of a drunk. As if he were trying to drown his demons I'd say . . .”

I seethed as we left the temple courtyard, and started heading to the Lord Collectors keep.

Don’t worry Tabitha, Tomas. I’ll set things right. Just need to find that damn priest first.