The path continued on, leading down the opposite side of the hill and back on to level ground. The trees slowly dispersed, giving way to a fenced off field with a moderately sized farmhouse on the far end. Though the field showed signs of cultivation, there was none of the activity that would be expected at this time of day; no one tending the field, no livestock grazing outside. There was, however, an armoured man in Church colours lazily standing guard to the side of the path, leaning on his spear with his helmet tipped forward to cover his eyes.
Clara froze upon seeing the Church soldier, but Gideon strode forwards and greeted the man with a wave and a loud “hail!”
The soldier jerked up with a start, almost losing hold of his spear as he quickly adjusted his helmet. It seemed he had managed to doze off while standing watch, and he took a moment to gather himself.
“Oi! Stop right there. Church business going on here.”
Gideon simply raised his holy symbol to the soldier. It was his turn to freeze when he saw the emblem of the Paladin’s order, and he began speaking quickly.
“My apologies, sir Paladin. Didn’t expect to see one of you around here - bit out of the way, ain’t it? Rest of the squad’s in the farmhouse, if-.”
Gideon held up a hand to stop the soldier. “Why are you all the way out here?”
He shifted a bit, and avoided meeting the Paladin’s eyes as he answered. “Well… We found this farm abandoned on a patrol. Signs of a struggle. Decided we should post up and investigate for the time being.”
Gideon smiled and clapped the man on the shoulder as he walked by, motioning for Clara to follow. “It just so happens we’re here for similar reasons, then. We’ll see what we can do to help.”
Clara could hear the soldier gulp nervously as she passed, but he didn’t speak up as she followed the Paladin to the door of the farmhouse. He knocked, and after a bit of rustling a voice called from behind the door as it opened.
“The hell do you want, Hobb? Shouldn’t you- ah.” The owner of the voice stopped upon seeing Gideon at the door. Unlike the man keeping watch he lacked armour, simply wearing everyday clothes without a hint of Church iconography.
“We heard about your investigation from Hobb, and thought we could offer some assistance.”
“Oh, uh. Sure, come on in, lord Paladin. We’ll tell you what we know. Let you stay the night, if you want. There’s a couple of spare rooms we aren’t using.”
Gideon and Clara stepped in through the open door and close it behind them as the soldier wandered off, presumably to rejoin his fellows. Spears were lined up in the entryway and armoured Church uniforms were bundled up nearby, six in all.
The interior of the farmhouse was rather nice for a peasant hovel, Clara mused as she followed Gideon down the hall. The floor was wood, which was surprising on its own. While she hadn’t had reason to visit a farm herself, she’d heard they tended to simply have dirt floors, maybe covered with straw. On top of that, it was more spacious than she’d expected. The owner must have been doing well for himself before he met his untimely end.
They found the rest of the soldiers in a large room with a hearth and a single table. Four of them were seated at the table, playing a game with dice and a modest pile of coins while the other two lounged on the floor in front of the hearth with mugs of drink in hand, the one who had answered the door having just returned to his place there. It did not look like a squad currently investigating a murder.
A big man at the head of the table grinned up at the newcomers as he scooped up the pile of coins, apparently the winner of that round. “Greetin’s there, Paladin and friend. Name’s Gerick, and I’m the leader o’ this bunch. Gonna help us figure out what happened here, yeah? Well here’s what we know. Came upon this farm ‘bout four days back, not a soul in sight. Checked inside and found the owner and ‘is family dead, so we gave ‘em a proper burial on that hill back there. We know there’s bandits ‘round these parts, but we ain’t been able to find ‘em lurkin’ around so far. We think it was most likely them that did it.”
“So you decided to avail yourself of the farmer’s house while you carry out your investigation?” Gideon asked as he took one of the empty seats around the table.
The large man shrugged. “He ain’t usin’ it any more. Besides, if it was bandits that done it, they’d be bunkered down here before too long. We’re just doin’ our job and wardin’ ‘em off of it.”
Clara looked at Gideon and tilted her head. It sounded to her like Gerick and his squad were using the investigation of the farmhouse as an excuse to waste their time lazing about rather than actually trying to find the culprit. And he hadn’t mentioned the ghost on the hill at all.
“You’ll be happy to hear that we dealt with a group of bandits inhabiting a castle a few hours down the road from here, then,” Gideon responded. It didn’t seem like he had noticed Clara’s questioning motion. “Based on the proximity, I would say those were the group you’re seeking.”
Clara thought she saw the soldier glower at Gideon for the briefest of moments, before he spread his hands and shrugged. “Well, seems like the angels have sent us a blessing. We’ll have to stay here for a few more days to make sure there ain’t any other threats in the area before we head back an’ report.”
Gideon nodded. “Fair enough. Now, one of your men said you had some spare beds? My companion and I have been on the road for most of the day, and could use some rest.”
“Course.” Gerick motioned to one of the soldiers seated in front of the hearth. “Show ‘em to the rooms, aye?”
The soldier rose with a lazy salute to Gerick, then waved for Clara and Gideon to follow him back down the hall, stopping in front of a row of doors. “One on the end is the chief’s, other two’re free,” he said before disappearing back into the front room.
“Don’t you think they’re acting a little suspicious?” Clara asked Gideon in a low voice once the soldier had left their sight.
The Paladin was already reaching for one of the doors, seeming entirely at ease. “They’re just a bit rough,” he responded. “Soldiers tend to be like that. They’re still sworn in service to the Church, so you can trust them.”
“If you say so,” Clara said without much confidence. However much Gideon trusted the soldiers, she couldn’t help but feel that something was off about how they conducted themselves. Maybe it was true that she wasn’t familiar with how these lowborn fighters acted, but she wasn’t about to lower her guard until they were safely away from the farm.
“We’ll see if they need any more help in the morning. Otherwise, we’ll be back on the road soon. Rest well,” Gideon said before withdrawing into his room.
Clara sighed and entered her own room. It was slightly cramped and sparsely furnished, but the bed looked comfortable enough. Before settling in, she coaxed her imp out of its hiding place in her pack.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
“Keep an eye on this hallway while I sleep. Wake me up if you see anything suspicious. You’d might as well wake the Paladin, too.” Whatever Gideon believed, Clara didn’t trust the soldiers here enough not to take the precaution. Content that the imp seemed to understand her orders, she settled in and opened up her tome, studying what she could until she eventually dozed off.
----------------------------------------
Gideon awoke with a start to leathery wings slapping at him, tiny claws pinching at his face. He swatted the offender away and rolled out of the bed and to his feet, hand grabbing his sword from where it rested - always within easy reach. Though the darkness of the room prevented him from seeing his assailant, he heard the flap of its wings take it from the floor. He realized now that it must be Clara’s imp, and that begged the question: what the hell was it doing attacking him?
That question caused Gideon to hesitate from drawing his blade for a split second when the imp swooped down to perch on his arm, close enough now that despite the low light, he could just make out that it was gesturing to the slightly ajar door with one clawed hand, the other raised to its lips in a shushing motion.
Gideon froze and, straining his ears, he could hear shuffling from the hall, then voices. Its messaged delivered, the imp took off from his arm back into a darkened corner of the room.
“Door’s open, captain. You think he’s still asleep?”
“Would’ve seen him if he were anywhere else. Quit bein’ such a coward and get in there.”
The door creaked open and Gideon saw the silhouette of one of the Church soldiers creep into his room, then pause when he realized the Paladin was awake and standing ready.
“Yeah, he’s bloody awake, captain.”
Gideon drew his blade, threw aside the scabbard, and willed holy energy into the weapon, causing it to emit a warm golden light. The soldier flinched at the motion, and Gerick shoved his way past him into the room, followed by another of his men. They were armed and armoured, and Gideon could see more of the squad milling around beyond the doorway. “What are you doing?” Gideon demanded.
“Ain’t it obvious? You’re threatenin’ the comfortable situation we’ve got here, so we’re just dealin’ with that real quick,” Gerick responded.
“So you would steal into a Paladin’s room in the night and slit his throat - what, so you can laze about for a bit longer?”
“Yeah, that’s about the gist of it.”
“Honourless cur.”
Gerick laughed. “Honour’s gonna see you dead, Paladin - an’ the lack of it’s gonna see me kickin’ back and livin’ easy. Come on, there’s seven of us and one of you. Lay down that sword an’ we can make this quick.”
Gideon didn’t bother to give him a response. Instead, he rushed forwards, his blade arcing towards Gerick. Two spears snapped up to intercept him in response, and he was forced to break away from his attack to ward one off with his sword, twisting out of the way of the other.
“Had to make it difficult, huh? Guess I shouldn’t expect any less from one of our vaunted holy warriors. Make ‘im bleed, boys,” Gerick commanded as he backed out of the room, another of his underlings taking his place. “Oh, an’ one of you go deal with the woman.”
Gideon was suddenly hard-pressed to defend himself as the spears darted towards him anew, perfectly spaced to not give him a moment’s respite. One snuck past his guard to tear across his arm, and before he could retaliate the other two were jabbing towards his unprotected flesh. He managed to prevent them from finding purchase, but it cost him some ground as the onslaught forced him a step backwards. They were hemming him into a corner, and he had to give it to them: for a bunch of conniving blackguards, they were skilled.
And then a cry of pain echoed out from the hall, followed by the thump of a man falling to the ground. “Is it so much to ask for just one decent night of sleep?” he heard Clara’s exasperated voice call out, punctuated by a rush of flames that momentarily flashed across the doorway. It was enough of a distraction to the spearmen that Gideon was able to push past the overextended haft of one of their weapons and thrust his blade into the soldier’s chest. The formation was further disrupted by the imp darting from its hiding place to claw at one of the men’s face, and in two more strokes of Gideon’s blade the remaining soldiers were on the ground, dead or dying.
Gideon drew in a deep breath, allowing a moment to collect himself. The wound on his arm was already knitting shut, wisps of soothing light streaming off of it. “…Thanks,” he said to the imp as he passed by it to gather up his scabbard. It felt strange, knowing that he likely owed his life to the demon.
He stepped out into the hall to see Clara standing in front of her room, arms folded and a scathing expression on her face. Smouldering corpses - all four of the remaining soldiers, including Gerick - were strewn about the corridor, evidence of her handiwork. “I think we’ve found our spectral friend’s murderers,” she said.
“That we have. That men under the Church’s banner could commit such a crime…” Gideon shook his head. “In any case, I am indebted to you once again. Were you not here, they would have killed me in my sleep, and I wouldn’t have suspected a thing.”
“You wouldn’t have been here if it weren’t for me seeking out that ghost in the first place.”
“Then I am doubly indebted to you, for helping uncover this corruption,” Gideon replied.
Clara shrugged her acquiescence. “Fine. Yes, you and your Church owe me a great debt, whatever that’s worth. I doubt it’s enough to get my name cleared.” She stalked down the hallway and out of sight before Gideon could formulate a response.
----------------------------------------
Clara had taken a seat beside the path leading away from the farm, watching her imp as it flitted around her head. Was it trying to catch bugs? The thought almost made her laugh - sometimes the creature seemed more like a house cat than a demon called from the depths of Hell.
Her gaze drifted away from the demon and over to Gideon, who had been hard at work burying the fallen for a while. Clara didn’t think that the villains deserved a proper burial, but she wasn’t going to try to stop the Paladin; he probably had some religious reason for the rites. As she ruminated on their sudden awakening earlier in the morning, she wondered if perhaps an apology was in order; she hadn’t meant to snap at him the way she had. Not that she hadn’t said anything untrue - but she could have been a bit less harsh about it. A combination of the infernal magic flowing through her, being woken after far too little sleep, and the fact that she’d been right about the Church soldiers had just made her a bit discourteous.
While she contemplated, the Paladin appeared to finish his work and started to make his way down the path. Clara stood and brushed the dirt off of her clothes, steeling herself for the apology. “I’m sorry for earlier,” she called to him once he was within earshot.
Confusion flashed across Gideon’s face for a second, then understanding. “Think nothing of it,” he responded. “I took no offense. Are you prepared?”
It almost annoyed Clara how quickly he had accepted the apology after she had spent her time dwelling on it. “Yes, I will be glad to be away from this place,” she said, though in truth she wouldn’t have minded another few hours of rest before setting out. The sun was already well into the sky, however, and it wouldn’t be kind enough to wait for her. The Paladin started towards the trees without another word, and Clara fell into step behind him.
The sickly tinge to the air seemed to have cleared as they approached the hill where they had previously encountered the farmer’s spirit. As his crude burial mound came into sight, though, he was still floating there. The apparition looked even less solid this time, but somehow more composed.
“Paladin. I could feel it the minute you avenged my murder,” his spectral voice rang out, surprisingly clear. “Guess I’ve got to be passing on, now, but I wanted to stay around long enough to thank you. Don’t know if it’ll mean much, wherever I’m going, but you have my deepest gratitude for bringing those men to justice.”
“You go to rest in the halls of Heaven now, friend,” Gideon replied, forming the sign of an angel’s wing. “I only regret that I could not have arrived in time to prevent this.”
“Not your fault, Paladin. Would that I hadn’t let them into my home… but it’s too late to be thinking about that. I’m already dead, after all.”
“May you find peace,” the Paladin said as he took a knee, then started reciting a prayer. As he did so, the ghost began to fade away, disappearing entirely before the prayer was even finished.
Clara wondered to herself how Gideon did it, how he seemed so earnest in his desire to help people. Was he really content with the simple fact that he had assisted someone? Did he not desire any other reward? It made her feel a bit guilty as she peered at the farmer’s grave once the Paladin’s back was turned, spotting what she had come here for in the first place: a small puddle of ethereal green substance, the ectoplasm she had been instructed to collect. She slipped the vial Holden’s familiar had given her out of her pack and used it to scoop up what remained of the ghost. She pondered, not for the first time, what exactly the warlock intended to use the material for, whether it was even the right choice to be assisting him.
Perhaps the Paladin’s upright demeanour was getting to her. She shook the thoughts from her head and stoppered the vial, then turned to follow the Paladin back through the trees.