Stone of Tears

“I want to meet the Prelate.”

“You can’t simply go visit her!”

“Why?”

She hurried along beside him. “Well, she’s a busy woman. She can’t be bothered. They won’t let you see her. The guards won’t even let us through the gate.”

He shrugged. “It won’t hurt to ask, will it? Then, afterwards, you can pick an outfit for me, and we’ll go to have dinner with the Sisters. All right?”

The offer to let her pick his outfit gave her pause. Pasha stuttered that she supposed it wouldn’t hurt just to ask and struggled to keep up as he marched toward the guard. The guard stepped before the iron gate, spread his feet, and hooked his thumbs on his weapons belt as Richard strode right up to him.

Richard put a hand to the man’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry. Forgive me. Please? I didn’t get you in any trouble, did I? I hope not. She hasn’t come out to yell at you, yet, I hope.”

The man frowned in confusion as Richard leaned closer. “Look… what’s your name?”

“Swordsman Andellmere. Kevin Andellmere.”

“Look, Kevin, she said she would send the guard at the west gate to get me if I was even one minute late. She probably forgot to send you out. It isn’t your fault. I promise I won’t mention your name. I hope you’re not angry with me.”

Richard put his back to Pasha and leaned even closer to the guard. “You understand.” He rolled his eyes meaningfully toward Pasha and then gave the man a wink. Kevin glanced to Pasha as she fussed with her tangled mat of hair. “Eh? You understand, I’m sure. Look, Kevin, say you’ll let me buy you an ale. Will you? I better get in there before I get you in trouble, but before I go, promise me you’ll let me buy you an ale, to make it up to you?”

“Well, I suppose I could let you buy me an ale…”

Richard clapped Kevin on the shoulder. “There’s a good man.”

Pasha was right on Richard’s heels as he stormed past the guard and through the gate. He turned and gave Kevin a wave and a smile.

Pasha leaned close. “How did you do that? No one gets through the Prelate’s guards.”

Richard held the door into the building open for her. “I just gave him too much to think about, and a worry he feared might be true.”

When an answer came to her knock, they stepped into a dimly lit room with two desks, and two Sisters.

Pasha curtsied. “sisters. I am novice Pasha Maes, and this is our new student, Richard Cypher. He was wondering if he might meet the Prelate.”

Both Sisters glowered at her. The one on the right spoke. “The Prelate is busy. Dismissed, novice.”

A little pale, Pasha curtsied again. Thank you for your time, Sisters.”

Richard gave a little bow. “Yes, thank you, Sisters. Please give the Prelate my kindest regards.”

“I told you she wouldn’t see us,” Pasha said on the way out.

Richard hiked his pack up higher on his shoulder. “Well, we gave it our best try. Thanks for indulging me.”

He had known that Pasha had been right, that the Prelate wouldn’t see them, but he had seen what he had come to see. He had only been interested in knowing the layout of the building and grounds for future reference.

Richard hadn’t changed his mind about his captivity, but he had decided to try a different approach for a while. He would bide his time, and see what they could teach him. Nothing would please him more than to be released from the collar without having to hurt anyone.

In the building that housed his room, Gillaume Hall, named after a prophet, Richard had learned, a young man came hesitantly out of the shadows on the lower level, before the wide marble stairs. His head of curly blond hair was cut short at the sides. His hands were stuck into the opposite sleeves of his violet robes. Silver brocade circled the cuffs and neck. He looked smaller than he was because of the way he hunched over.

His head bowed to Pasha while his blue eyes searched for a safe place to settle. “Blessings on you, Pasha,” he said softly. “You look lovely tonight. I pray you are well.”

Pasha squinted in thought. “Warren, isn’t it?” His head bobbed, surprised that she knew his name. “I’m fine, Warren. Thank you for asking. This is Richard Cypher.”

Warren smiled shyly at Richard. “Yes, I saw you before the Sisters, yesterday.”

“I suppose you, too, want to know about the mriswith,” Pasha said with a sigh.

“Mriswith?”

“Richard killed a mriswith. Isn’t that what you wanted to ask about?”

“Really? A mriswith? No…” He turned back to Richard. “I wanted to ask if you would care to come down to the vaults sometime, and look at the prophecies with me.”

Richard didn’t want to embarrass the young man, but he had no interest in prophecies. “I’m honored by the offer, Warren, but I’m afraid that I’m not much good with riddles.”

Warren diverted his eyes to the floor. “Of course, I understand. Not many of the others are much interested in the books, either. I just thought that maybe, well, I just thought that since you mentioned that particular prophecy yesterday, that maybe you would want to talk about it. It’s a unique piece of work. But I understand. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”