11.9

Jewel wished she could say that the last few years traveling Viznove had allowed her to forget what this felt like.

But that would be a lie.

Even with her friend and peer Thurzó sending forth a vanguard to make arrangements.

Even with the insistence of her Husband, A count, their combined retinue and all the footmen, the combined staff of both their entourages.

Still with the weight of so many, Jewel found herself disappointed to be dealing with this again.

“Were the words of our vanguard not clear?”

The ‘Bishop’ Kaim before her was not one of her subjects. Technically she and Thurzó were nothing more than guests unable to take any legal action in these lands. He was the appointed law of this demesne under the direct vassalage to the High King and his holdings of the relatively close capital.

However there were expectations for traveling nobility and fellow vassals of the realm. And Jewel recognized his scent, he had been one of the god botherers present for her wedding.

He already knew who Jewel was.

She was almost certain he even spoke to her.

Here in the Temple of Aul’s Roost, he was a peer to Jewel and Thurzó!

And yet here he was looking at her with a sneer she had expected to only encounter in complete strangers. No, it was somehow worse. He was not merely mistaking her for a thoughtless mute beast, he heard her words and was refusing to acknowledge her despite them somehow!

“The Vanguards arranged quarters for the rightful rulers of Arva and Viznove, their households, retinues, staff and animals.”

He looked directly at Jewel on the last word.

“And I humbly offer such accommodations in the name of Aul, divine lord of beer, wine and the other spirits of fine drink. To all blessed by his touch.”

Jewel narrowed her eyes at this.

“Then why do you bar my path?! I am the acknowledged Countess of Viznove, by rightful inheritance and god sworn vows of a marriage you attended.”

The bishop’s long draping finery flared out as a divine working roiled in the air around him. The sharp cleaving strokes of a god making its presence known to Jewel even though she could not see or feel it.

The air twisting under its touch sign enough.

“You are a warbeast of the high king of the realm and nothing more serpent!”

Jewel recoiled like he had struck her. But the sudden vitriol continued.

“This abomination of bestiality may pass in that barbaric march of the Ridgetails but I will not have a divinely forsworn wyrm corrupt the halls of Aul’s house! Be glad you are permitted to even stay under the hallowed roofs of our stables accursed fiend!”

Jewel was silent in shock.

There had been whispered words. Foul and cruel ones made about her. But the sheer gall of the man to say that to her face?!

As her host!?

Jewel was utterly speechless.

Thurzó however was quick, speaking up with a strained tone.

“Kaim, this is absurd. She is the Countess of Viznove! The fifth richest vassal of High King Mathias! You raised her banner in welcome beside mine!”

The Bishop’s face remained on Jewel, never taking his eyes off her even as he spoke to the count, an act of disrespect that nearly shocked her more.

“That poor boy forced into wedlock and bound to the beast by his mad mother is welcome, You as honorable consul and count of Arva is welcome. All the poor souls yoked to this monstrosity may feast in my halls. But the star accursed thing and its spawn will not set foot in Aul’s sanctuary.”

Smithson stood up straight, alerting Oxhoof of his tension, the mare standing at alert. His hands gripped Gem with his left arm while his right went to his sword.

Paul was slack jawed in surprise.

Jewel could only gape and stare with her husband. It was purpling towards dusk but they could still make camp and a meal if needed, but to outright refuse her hospitality?

Deny a Welcoming feast?!

Thurzó, her years-long friend, spoke with an even greater strain to his voice.

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“Kaim! She is welcomed in all the realm by order of High King Mathias Himself! She is answering his summons as the Countess of Viznove! This is a breach of hospitality and an insult to the realm and both our counties man!”

The presence of the divine lashed out even wider, billowing in a whirl of wind that smelled faintly of vinegar, spices and rising bread. He spoke softly again to the count but his eyes stayed on Jewel.

“My dear friend and ally under the high king, you do not need to cleave to the countess' lies, Aul has assured me her curse is undone and she lingers not past death. And here on his lands all guests are held safe and fast against foul sorcery and violence, he will protect you at last.”

Jewel stared at the Bishop, then to Thurzó.

This was much worse than anyone had ever treated her in Viznove. Not even that merchant who had suggested-

“Kaim! This is not the time, you might have been at the wedding for her flowery show of force and whatever that was with the gods but I saw her actions in war! Aul is not going to stop her if you actually draw her ire! Is this because you don’t have the room for her inside? We can make do with tent-”

The quite possibly insane ‘Bishop’ interrupted the count!

“György! This horror unmade a thousand men into accursed fiends to celebrate her coronation then set them loose upon her city to despoil, burn and pillage! She bewitched and ravaged that poor boy to spawn an army the very night of that farce of a wedding! I thought perhaps you had the beast tamed and on a leash by your correspondence...”

Jewel blinked a little then shared a look with Thurzó who had been struck absolutely still and silent in shock.

The madman in finery continued.

“But it appears that you are too ensorceled to act! As you wrote the she-beast is obviously planning the overthrow of the realm itself! For the sake of the king, and all the souls under my charge and of the realm-”

She turned to look at Paul and Smithson who were both equally confused.

“And by the goodness of Aul! Lord of the spirits, beer, hearth and all good drinks.”

The roiling power of the divine welled up towards the just darkening evening sky. Drawing in motes of faux flame from the air and soil, filtering with a sour sweetness in the air.

A strange light shined from no apparent place on the man and finally that drew enough attention for human eyes to spur action.

Muriel and Thurzó’s captain began to move, hands at swords but they and every footman that tried to step towards the Bishop with them suddenly staggered. Jewel boggled, nothing of the divine had touched them and yet they were struck?! But a moment of stumbling was soon followed by every man and woman that had moved to their defense toppling over.

Jewel shifted forward to defend her men and captain before noticing no scent of blood or sign of death. They breathed calmly on the ground, curling up in the grass and dirt but to a last they were merely asleep.

The Bishop was still staring at Jewel.

Never having stopped watching her, his finery shimmering in sourceless light.

“No vile force of spirit, beast or man may break the pact of peace and hospitality on these grounds. Foul serpent of the underdark! I revoke your sorcery on these poor creatures you have bewitched! I release your bondage upon them!”

Jewel blinked at the man then looked around at half their party lying where they fell.

She gazed upon the way Dariusz and his family were huddled back behind the horses from the man and the billowing wind and faint light of something which illuminated his saggy finery.

Her wyrmflame flared at the offense of this man and his god.

She could feel the well of her power building up her throat, climbing to fill her mouth. He dared to strike down what was hers to protect?

The annihilating flame built in her mouth ready to be released.

Until the smuggest voice that she had ever heard spoke up at her feet.

“As the Count Thurzó so eloquently observed, dear Bishop Kaim of Aul’s Roost, the only one who has trespassed on the sanctity of hospitality in these lands is you.”

And with that the divinity in the air stopped with a sudden stillness.

The light which unnaturally shone upon the man vanishing like a snuffed candle.

The Bishop’s eyes widened in absolute shock and turned at last from Jewel. Settling down at her feet where a black cat in a floppy red hat stood, primly between Jewel’s forelegs.

“What?!”

Fizzbunches flicked his tail.

“You are disturbing the peace of your god Bishop, that is very rude.”

The bishop turned his gaze up to the sky. A vague scent of rotten fruit and the slightest feel of the divine shearing in the air above Kaim.

“Aul! Why!? This beast has-”

And then mid sentence the man’s eyes rolled up in his head and he collapsed backwards in a heap fast asleep. Snoring just like Jewel’s mother did when she was especially deep in her cups. The same scent was even billowing off of him although he had seemed completely sober before.

Jewel turned to look at Thurzó who was rubbing his brow in a way she had never seen her friend take up before.

“So... what do we do now?”

Fizzbunches looked around then sneezed heavily.

“Aul will favor us to see all these drunken fools put to a good rest in a soft bed to suffer his judgment in the morning.”

Jewel blinked down at the cat.

“This god Aul also teaches to never waste a good feast or a fine drink. So after that is settled we’d best make our way to supper lest he take insult. As a good priest of his teachings the Bishop and his fellow god botherers will certainly understand and oblige.”

Jewel and Thurzó stared at Fizzbunches the Weird as he marched up to the monastery entrance. Not even bothering to avoid walking over the slumbering men in his path. Leaving a single sooty paw print over the Bishop’s eye in his passing.

“Come along! I smell an absolutely divine trout baking in butter, white wine and sage.”

Apparently the cat had a very close familiarity with some random god Jewel had never heard of.

It had been far too tiring a day of hard travel and an exhaustingly confusing start to the evening.

But atleast little Imre was laughing.