Chapter 6
Split the Party to Investigate the Vanished
Jenika wanted to make haste, and Jago moved quickly with her. The young man had donned his own black leather armor and brought his weapons. He moved fluidly beside her as the monk made her way back to the Hawkfeather Monastery.
Amy was flustered, but Jenika was able to convince her of the danger from Orensland’s father. The waitress sighed. “Well, I guess it’s for the best. I wasn’t sure what to do here in the city anyway.”
“Orensland will pay your way at least as far as Bailey’s point,” Jago said. “We could help you find a place there.”
Jenika looked to her right, at Master Foon. The white-haired half-elf stood quietly, his hands in his robes. “It matters not to us,” the wizened monk said. “We want what is safe, and you would be safe here as well, even from this Zehvran. But perhaps you would not be safe out in the city, and we know you would not wish our monastery to become your prison, even if for safety’s sake. Perhaps starting in a new city would be best.”
Amy wiped some tears out of her eyes, but acquiesced. She asked if Jago and Jenika would accompany her back to her house to get their remaining things. Jago, clever boy that he was, had brought along a bag of holding. Jenika wondered if it had been his idea or his mothers.
But regardless, they left as soon as they could. At the house, Amy went through to grab the rest of her belongings, not having packed well for a permanent leave-taking of their small house. Jago stood watch at the door. It wasn’t a few minutes later that a knock came. Jago took a silent step back, and then vanished from their sight, though Jenika could barely see his outline crouched down, sword drawn. Jenika herself stepped back into one of the other rooms with a nod to Amy. If there was trouble, they would surprise it!
But it wasn’t trouble. “Amy! We were getting worried about you!” It was a dwarven woman, and Amy obviously knew her.
“Hello, Mahlana.”
“Where have you been?”
Amy took a deep breath. “We’ve been away. And, Mahlana, we’re leaving. It’s important that you don’t tell anybody.”
Mahlana’s tone grew stern. “You’re not joining one of those idiot pilgrimages, are you? Bad news, those missionaries. We should put our faith in the Knights, real flesh and blood, not empty promises of being protected by the Gods.”
“That’s not it, but, really, we need to leave. It’s for the best.”
“You are! You’re going on one of the pilgrimages! You’re going with them!”
“I am not.”
“I never figured you for a fool, Amy. And now yours will be just another empty house, like all the others. I will pray for you and your children!” The door slammed shut.
Jenika emerged from behind the doorway from where she had watched from the darkness of the other room. Jago appeared from thin air a few feet away, sheathing his sword.
“What was that about?” asked Jenika.
Amy moved back to gathering her family’s things. “Just one of my neighbors. It might be good if they think I’m going on one of the pilgrimages. Then nobody will come looking for us.”
“The pilgrimages happen here, as well?” asked Jago. His face, normally taciturn anyway, had suddenly creased with concern.
“As well?” asked Amy.
“What pilgrimages are you talking about?” asked Jenika. The only pilgrimages she had heard about were the ones to some ancient site, place where some momentous event had occurred, or maybe a place of much interest, like Khamir’s journey to the Cathedral of Thakillestra the Gold. It was obvious that Jago and Amy were speaking of something more specific.
“We’ve heard of these pilgrimages in other cities we’ve traveled to. People who convert to a new religion or something, and then vanish.”
“That’s it. The missionaries have been here in the area before, but I never listened to them, really.” She was finally finished packing. She looked around one more time, wistfully, then pushed the two of them out the door.
Zeke and Jennifer were still concerned and rightly scared, but the monks did their best to assure them, and Jago was friendlier than Jenika had thought him to be towards the two children. The boy could turn on the charm when it was needed. Jago thought it best if he travel with them alone, since Zehvran knew Jenika’s face. The monk had to agree, and with a hug to Amy and her kids, Jenika watched them depart with the shadowdancer.
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It was getting towards evening, the sun drooping towards the horizon. Jenika turned to Master Foon. “What have you heard about these ‘pilgrimages’ that people take, then disappear?”
Master Foon pursed his lips. “Sometimes some missionaries come through this area, preaching non-violence. Their message is one of non-resistance, that war begets war, and fighting Arkenos will lead to more suffering. Sometimes they speak of defensive fighting, but usually it’s more of a pacifist approach. I haven’t talked with them myself, though I heard of some who were here this past week.”
“Is their message wise? Arkenos looms on the horizon. The Dark Times are coming.”
The master monk shrugged. “The old saying is at least partially true, that he who lives by the sword dies by the sword. But they gather their followers, then they leave with them. I do not know where they go.” He put a hand on Jenika’s shoulder. “You have had a rough day. Come, it is almost time for our evening meal.” He walked away.
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With Orensland gone, Jenika found she was missing the rogue. This somewhat surprised her, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it. There were things to do.
First, she went to the Faatin Merchant House to report on what had happened with regard to Zeke’s rescue. Hartwin himself was unavailable, but Brul spoke to her to get a full briefing. He was slightly miffed about Orensland just leaving, but Jenika assured him that Zevhran looked to be enough trouble. What with the arson and all, the dwarf eventually agreed that it might be best of Orensland skipped town. If Zehvran took off after him, that would get rid of the one witness they were sure knew about the arson.
When asked about the pilgrimages, Brul seemed to know about them, but scoffed. “They’ve come into the city now and again. Seem to only focus on the poorer parts of town. Sometimes I get wind of it from one of our guys. Missionaries come through, talk to people. Hold meetings. Win converts. Then they leave town.
“It’s a bad idea, if you ask me. The Gods help those that help themselves. Leaving to go to somewhere that isn’t even known? Foolishness. Lucky for us the pilgrimages don’t travel south. One of our caravans ran into a pilgrimage headed east of Hammerdine, on their way to Laishtek. But it only happened once.” He snorted. “I’ll bet the Sendylus guild has to deal with them more than we do.”
Jenika thanked him, and then left. The monks at the monastery were also not much help regarding the missionaries, nor were the citizens of Hammerdine that she asked. She was able to find out that a number of people in the slums around the monastery had gone on these pilgrimages. Mahlana’s off-hand comment was true, though. There were many abandoned houses, their owners having just left. Jenika decided to look into them; perhaps there was some clue left behind that could help her.
She waited until the sun set before investigating. Most of the houses she looked into, the monks had been able to point out which ones had been abandoned, didn’t yield any clues. Most of the household items had been left, and this included clothes. It was obvious that whatever packing was done for these pilgrimages, it wasn’t very thorough. It looked to Jenika like these people had left with literally the clothes on their backs, though she couldn’t be certain of that.
However, one of the houses turned up something interesting. Buried under a pile of straw that had served as one of the beds she found a single sheet of paper. It was very finely cut, something she had not seen before, an almost exact square. The writing on it was extremely symmetrical—she was a little envious of the writer’s penmanship. She had not seen its like even in the library of the monastery she had grown up in. She glanced over it, holding her torch over it.
> We welcome you, brothers and sisters! The Gods be with you as you undertake this journey. Keep your decision to yourself, above all else. We do not wish to overtly persuade others to join us merely because their friends are doing so. The Gods speak to whom they will.
>
> Together we will journey to our chosen land, where the Gods themselves will protect us from Arkenos. Do not bring any weapons with you, for such an action would show a lack of faith. War begets war. Violence begets violence. Strife begets strife. Only by renouncing war, violence, and strife, can we be assured of the protection of the Gods!
>
> Therlyassa. Cyndal Lane, Shrine of Piety. May 22nd.
The last line was written in hastily, and was clearly not the same meticulous print as the rest of it. Jenika stowed the paper in her backpack, and continued her search, but found nothing else in that house, or in any of the others she had been pointed to. She returned to the monastery and shared the paper with Master Foon. He was able to confirm the basic missionary message, which convinced Jenika that it was an authentic document, though rather bland and non-specific. However, Master Foon was able to decipher the meaning of the hastily written scrawl. There was indeed a Shrine of Piety in the City of Hammerdine. It was on a Cyndal Lane near the east entrance to the city, not terribly far from the monastery itself and also in the slums of the city. It was a place where many gods were worshipped and clerics from multiple priesthoods all served together; it was not a dedicated shrine to a particular deity, and it was relatively new. It had been made out of an old art gallery that had fallen into disrepair decades ago as the city had shifted around it.
Jenika pondered on this new development as she ate breakfast with the other monks. Investigating things at a shrine. How should she go about doing it? Should she go ask about the missionaries? But that might get her trapped, with no backup. Perhaps she could pretend to be interested in worshipping a God? But, really, she didn’t know much about such things. Wistfully, she wished Khaska were around. He would know better than she what do to.
In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she thought it would be best to wait for the others to return. She nodded to herself as she cleared her dishes. Yes. She would wait for the others to return.