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The Beast and The Swallow
III-67. The viper stirs (1)

III-67. The viper stirs (1)

A sleepless night crawled over the temple grounds. There was tension in the air, in every rustling leaf and creaking branch. The song of the crickets, usually so exuberant this time of the year, now sounded like a funeral hymn accompanying the cries of anguish.

The fatigue from the last couple of hours weighed hard on Lorelei’s shoulders, but she couldn’t get a second of rest. If she stopped cleaning and bandaging scrapes, pulling glass shards, setting bones, and stitching wounds, she would be forced to think about Rasha - imprisoned in the holy barrier for the crime of being a Binshi. Without the cries of the patients and the shouts of the infirmarian and his helpers, she would be hearing again and again Noah’s words whilst driving her away.

Twisting a piece of wet cloth with all her might, she wrung out her frustration into the washing bowl. She had been so happy and relieved to find Noah alive. And he too had seemed in high spirits when he saved her. And whilst teasing her. And dressing her wound. But then, in a split second, he had again erected a wall between them. The gaze he had given her whilst driving her away had been the same as on the night of her father and sister’s welcoming banquet.

She shuddered.

No. His eyes had been even sadder and colder. Like the ash from a desolate and forgotten hearth. Like… his gaze on their wedding night.

Lorelei remembered the self-deprecating remarks he had made on their way to the temple and her heart weighed down with even more guilt.

‘I know it must be hard. To be the one initiating contact with… someone like me.’

His words while climbing the marble steps of the temple rang in her ears. Her brusque escape after the welcoming dinner had wounded him more deeply than she had imagined. That fool! He agonized over her mistake. Because she couldn’t reign in her fears and had acted like an idiot. She needed to straighten up this misunderstanding, but alas, the moment was not suitable to indulge in talks about guilt and feelings. When all this was over and Rasha and the other Binshi were out of suspicion for the fall of the tower, she was going to have a good talk with him. Although she still feared revealing her past to him, she could stand even less seeing him blaming himself. In the end, it was better to suffer the consequences for being honest about her actions that night than to watch Noah eating himself up for all the wrong reasons.

Lorelei cradled the freshly sprouted resolve deep in her heart and returned to her patients, fearing that should she ponder over it any longer, she might change her mind.

While she was bandaging the head of a young woman, the door of the infirmary opened and a panting novice girl flew in. She glanced around and, locating Lorelei, rushed towards her.

“Greetings, Your Highness. You ordered me to tell you when the new guests arrive.”

“Already!? How fast did they…?”

Lorelei blinked and looked through the faceted window. The pink and gold of a new dawn greeted her from the outside together with the songs of the first birds.

“Time is such a tricky thing,” she mumbled and washed her hands in the closest bowl. “Can you take over from me? There are only a few bruises left that need an ointment.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Nodding in appreciation, Lorelei hurried along the already familiar path. In front of the clerical cell Noah was currently occupying, she saw ten of Ildemar’s knights standing guard - fully armored and with swords on their hips.

The moment they noticed her, the knights stood at attention. Their leader bowed politely and knocked on the door.

“Your Highness! Her Highness has arrived.”

“Let her in.”

Even muffled and distorted by the distance and the door separating them, Noah’s voice still made her heart tremble.

Lorelei entered the now fully cramped room.

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“Good morning, my lord.” She bowed slightly towards Noah, her tongue feeling somewhat stiff while uttering a perfunctory greeting.

“Welcome, Duchess,” he replied in kind, avoiding looking directly at her.

Without exchanging more words, an awkward silence hung between them.

Steeling herself, Lorelei went on to exchange greetings with their much-awaited guests. Sitting on the bed next to Noah, Neli gave her a cursory nod. In contrast, Duncan bent in a deep bow and kissed her hand, his vigilant eye giving her a quick worried check. Ashen-faced and barely standing on his feet, Sir Lucas performed all the formalities and then leaned on one of the stone walls, taking precaution that his body couldn't slump down and disgrace him in front of his lord and lady. However, Lorelei’s whole attention was concentrated on the other person standing right next to Duncan.

With disheveled hair and dark shadows under his eyes, Castor Firmon fidgeted with his hands. The look of his slumped shoulders, slightly hunched back, and sunken cheeks shocked Lorelei. Nothing in this man bore a resemblance with the exuberant youth she knew.

“Master Castor…” She hesitated. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, my lady.” The voice of the youth sounded a bit hollow, despite his attempts to imitate cheerfulness. “I just had a couple of sleepless nights while researching some hexes with Lady Akasha.”

“I understand that you are tired,” interrupted Noah, “but I need your assistance in this matter. Rest must wait.”

“I’ll do my best, my lord.” Castor bowed deeply.

“Good. I’ve explained the situation roughly. How long would you need to investigate the presence of hexes?”

“It’s hard to tell before seeing the site.” Castor sucked on his lip and his brows furrowed. “But I am afraid that it might take over a week if you really want a thorough report.”

“The thoroughest possible.”

“Then I’ll need to look at all the debris and the remnants of the steeple. And should my eyes detect any traces of magic, it might be a good idea to investigate everyone who has been present in the temple during the incident.”

“Duncan, coordinate with the city guards. I want the temple under lock and key until Castor has finished.”

“Understood.” The old knight crossed his arms. “But I can guarantee you that a lot of people won’t like this.”

“I am aware.”

"So, are you going to return to Ildemar or..."

"You know the answer."

"You staying here and personally conducting the investigation might placate the masses, but it puts you and the Duchess in considerable danger."

"But Rasha is one of my people." Noah rubbed his neck. "My presence here will prevent Petronius from acting on his own accord. As for the danger, Petronius will be providing priests with holy relics as mine and Lorelei's escorts."

"If you can trust those toys anyway," humphed Duncan.

“I agree! Shouldn’t it have been impossible to cast a hex into a church in the first place?” mused Neli. “Shouldn’t the holy powers concentrated here be enough to disrupt any malicious magic?”

“They should. As Ildemar’s protective hexes should have stopped the Red Hands,” rumbled Noah. “Better be on the safe side. Someone might have found a gap in the temple’s defenses. Or worse. It might have been an insider's doing.”

"Then what help would be a treacherous priest with some dubiously working artifact?!"

"As long as Master Castor vouches for them, it should be fine."

Ignoring Neli and Duncan's further protest, Noah turned to Lorelei and a bitter smile stretched his lips.

“Since we are all captives here, it spares us the argument about you staying here and taking care of the injured, Lady Shimshi.”

“It does, my lord.” Lorelei shrugged. “But I believe you would have acted in your people’s best interest regardless.”

“Indeed. And since I can’t have you under triple lock, make sure to always have at least one knight accompanying you besides the assigned priest.”

“As you order.” Lorelei’s brows drew together. “Should I be the one to break the news to Pricilla, or would you like the honor?”

“It would be best-”

Before Noah could finish, Castor bent in two, his body shaken by sudden bouts of cough.

Lorelei rushed to him but the moment she touched him, the youth jerked back and leaned on Duncan’s shoulder.

“I… am sorry. Your Highness… My lady… Sir Duncan…”

“No need to apologize.” Lorelei sized him up with increasing worry. “But you really look sick.”

“I… It’s just a cold. I’ve been struggling with it for some time.” Castor heaved and regained some of his composure. “This won’t interfere with my work.”

“Bring him to the infirmarian and let him have some medicine and two or three hours of rest.” Noah sighed and pinched his nose. “I can’t give you more.”

“I’m sorry, my lord. It’s more than I need.”

“Alright, alright, go with the Duchess.” Noah waved his hand. “Duncan, take Lucas with you and follow them. He’ll hurt himself if he continues sleeping while standing. And about Pricilla Orten, leave that to me.”