In the morning, they said their goodbyes to brother Salvo. Millet gave him two gold coins that Lee had given him, and promised to stop there again when they returned home. As they pulled away, Gewey wondered if they would be able to keep that promise. The more he learned, the more it seemed unlikely he would ever see his home again. Kaylia was deep in thought, her robes pulled tight around her.
“Are you alright?” asked Gewey.
“I’m fine,” answered Kaylia. “I was just thinking about the people at the encampment. They weren’t what I expected.”
“What did you expect?” Gewey asked.
“I don’t know,” Kaylia admitted. “I suppose I expected them to be more brutish. I didn’t expect the kindness they show one another.”
“Millet’s right,” said Gewey. “You have a lot to learn about humans.”
Kaylia was silent.
“The story Brother Salvo told about the Demon King,” said Gewey. “Have you heard it before?”
“Yes,” said Kaylia “Though it’s told differently among my people. In our tales, he’s a hero.”
“How could someone called the ‘Demon King’ be a hero?” asked Gewey.
Kaylia laughed and said, “We don’t call him the ‘Demon King,’ we simply call him King Ratsterfel. In our stories, he stood up to the tyranny of the Gods and tried to free the world.”
“I wonder which story is true,” Gewey said pensively.
“Perhaps neither,” Kaylia replied. “It was long ago, and storytelling among my people is not what it was. Much of our history was lost with the fall of our Nations."
“That must be hard,” said Gewey. “My people depend on their stories as a way to connect them to our ancestors. If we didn’t have them, we’d be lost.”
“You keep referring to the humans as ‘your’ people,” she said.
“Yet they are not. Being raised human does not make you human.
If they found out what you are, do you think they would bow down and worship you, or would they run in fear and disgust? Though I admit the monks surprised me with their kindness and selflessness, I wonder how kind would they have been if they discovered what I am? What if they knew they had shared a meal with an elf? Do you think they would just ignore it and smile?”
“And what about your people?” interjected Lee, who had been listening from the front of the wagon. “They want to murder you just for traveling with humans. Are they any better?”
“You’re right, half-man,” Kaylia acknowledged. “The old hatreds run deep on both sides. I cannot claim differently. Perhaps on this journey we can find a way to change that.”
“Wouldn’t that be something,” Millet added. “Now that would be an adventure I would be proud to be part of.”
“I think you speak for us all, old friend,” said Lee.
For the rest of the morning conversation between Kaylia and Lee was more civil than usual. They even exchanged a few stories while Gewey listened with a pleased grin.
It was just before noon when they reached the gates of Kaltinor. They expected the gates to be open during the day, but instead they were shut tight and protected by four members of the city guard. Millet pulled up and halted the wagon.
“What’s your business?” the guard captain inquired. As the captain spoke with Millet, the other three guards moved to the back of the wagon and looked inside. Gewey and Kaylia bowed their heads and stayed quiet.
“We’re just pilgrims passing through,” said Millet.
“Pilgrims, you say?” said the captain. “I’m sure you saw the monks camped back the way you came, and I’m sure they told you the temples will not receive you. We have no room here for a bunch of poor pilgrims. Best you move on.”
“They did tell us,” Millet affirmed. “All the same, we are just passing through.” He reached down and handed something to the guard captain.
The captain looked at it for a moment, then quickly put it in his pocket. “Your stay here can be no longer than three days. Any longer and you’ll be arrested. Understand?”
Millet nodded. “Completely.”
The captain ordered his men to open the gates. Millet glanced over at Lee and sighed with relief. There was a loud screech of metal on metal as the gates slowly swung open. Millet urged the horses forward and passed through.
“We’ve managed to bribe our way through the gates with little problem,” said Lee. “Let’s see if our luck holds at the temple.” He glanced back at Gewey. “If you want, you can walk beside the wagon. I know you’ve never seen a city before, and you won’t
see much of it from back there.”Gewey smiled with excitement and leapt from the wagon.
The streets of Kaltinor were thirty feet wide and paved with smooth stones. Most of the buildings along the main avenue were two stories tall; the bottom floors held shops of all kinds, while the upper floors held residences where Gewey could see people eating and talking on small balconies. In just a few minutes, he had counted at least five taverns and three inns-a far cry from what he’d grown up with in Sharpstone. People of all kinds surrounded him; commoners, lords, monks, and merchants all moved about at a pace that astounded him. In the distance, towering above it all, stood a large manor of deep gray stone. At four stories high, it was by far the largest building Gewey had ever seen.
“What do you think, young master?” Millet asked. Gewey could barely hear him over the noise of the city.
“It’s amazing,” he said breathlessly. “I can’t imagine what it would be like to live here.”
“Like living in a hornets’ nest,” muttered Kaylia, who had jumped down beside Gewey. “It’s unnatural.”
“I agree,” said Millet. “Over the years I’ve come to appreciate living in the country.”
Lee laughed. “So I guess all that about hating the smell of horses and pigs, not to mention the constant complaining about not having proper shops and clothing was nothing but hogwash.”
“Not hogwash, my lord,” answered Millet. “I guess I’ve just changed more than I realized.”
“We’ve both changed,” said Lee, thoughtfully.
They wound their way west through the city’s temple district and approached the Temple of Ayliazarah. The temple was made from red granite and bore elaborate carvings of the Goddess along the outer wall. In the front, a stone staircase led upward to an arched entranceway, with two large oak doors. Statues of Ayliazarah, each holding a harp in one hand and the Moon in the other, stood on the either side of the door.
Millet stopped the wagon and they climbed down.
“Remember,” Millet advised. “Speak only when spoken to, and say nothing of what Brother Salvo told us.”
When they got to the door, Millet pounded it several times with his fist. It opened a few moments later, and there stood an old woman dressed in fine white linen robes embroidered with intricate interlacing gold patterns. Her head was covered in a thin gold silk scarf and she carried a long white ash walking stick.
“What’s your business here?” the old woman asked.
“We’re pilgrims on our way to the Temple of the Far Sky,” replied Millet. “We thought we might stay the night and see the temple while we’re here.”
“You thought wrong,” said the woman. “We have no room for vagabonds. Be gone.” She started to close the door, but Millet’s hand shot out and stopped her.
“We are not vagabonds,” Millet said sternly. “As I said, we are pilgrims, and we demand entrance to the temple.”
“You demand?” the woman scoffed. “You will leave now, or I will call the city guards.”
“Who is it?” asked a woman’s voice from within the temple.
“What do they want?”
“It’s no one, Your Holiness,” the old woman replied, turning her head inside the door. “Riff-raff, nothing more.”
“Let them in,” said the voice. “Let me see this ‘riff-raff,’ if you please.”
The old woman glowered at Millet as she slowly opened the door.
Once inside, they saw a floor made from polished black marble that spanned an enormous room lined with gold columns. The walls were covered with tapestries and frescoes depicting the nine gods, and several immense glass chandeliers hung from the twenty-foot ceiling. In the center of the room stood a ten-foot statue of Ayliazarah exactly like those outside the door, but this one was made of solid gold. At the far end were two spiral staircases leading to the upper level.
Just inside the door stood a woman dressed in white satin robes.
She was holding a large, leather-bound book. She was younger than the woman who answered the door by at least twenty years, although her face looked careworn. Her light brown hair fell down her shoulders in tight curls ornamented with tiny white flowers. She smiled brightly at Millet and the rest as they entered.
“I don’t know, Maybell,” said the woman. “They look a bit scruffy, but I wouldn’t say they’re riff-raff.” Her voice was cheerful and kindly.
“Thank you for allowing us entrance, Your Holiness,” Millet said, bowing low.
The others bowed as well but said nothing. Millet introduced them using the same names he had given Brother Salvo.
“I’m Sister Salmitaya, High Priestess here in Kaltinor,” she said.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”
“We are but simple pilgrims on our way to the Temple of the FarSky,” Millet replied. “We seek lodging and a short respite from our travels.”
“I tried to make them leave, Your Holiness,” said Maybell. “But they wouldn’t listen.”
“Nonsense,” laughed Salmitaya. “Times may be hard, but if these people managed to gain entry to the city, then who am I to turn them away? How did you get past the gate, by the way?”
“I’m ashamed to say, Your Holiness,” said Millet. “We bribed our way in.”
Salmitaya raised her eyebrows. “Is that so? It’s interesting that mere pilgrims would have money enough for bribes.”
“We have saved for many years to go on this pilgrimage,” answered Millet. “This temple is among those we planned to visit along the way.”
“I wish I had known,” she said. “I could have saved you the cost of a bribe.”
“Some pilgrims send word and money ahead,” said Millet, understanding her meaning. “But I think that takes away from the lesson one is supposed to learn along the way. We have not, however, come empty handed. We intend to make all proper contributions before we depart.”
Salmitaya laughed. “Please, Brother Milton. You don’t need to bother. It’s my pleasure to offer the hospitality of this temple. You may stay as long as you wish.”
“Thank you, Your Holiness,” said Millet, bowing low.
“Thank you, Brother,” she replied, bowing in return. “Sometimes it’s easy to forget that this is a place of worship and contemplation. In these dark times we have been all but driven to beg in the streets.”
“It pains me to hear that,” said Millet. “Is there anything we can do to help?”
“Sadly, there isn’t,” Salmitaya replied. “Our troubles go deeper than you can guess.” Her eyes became sorrowful. “But this is not a conversation we should have here and now.” She shook off her sadness, and her smile returned. “Maybell will see to your needs. I hope you will join me for supper later.”
“We would be honored,” said Millet. “All but Sister Kaymaya, that is. She has taken the vow of the Sacred Word.”
“Then I will see to it that she is accommodated,” said Salmitaya.
“Now, if you will excuse me, I have things to attend to.” She bowed her head.
Millet and the others bowed low and watched as the High Priestess hummed softly as she walked across the floor to the stairs.
“Do you wish for me to have someone see to your things?” asked Maybell, still glaring suspiciously.
“To the horses and wagon, yes,” answered Millet. “But we’ll see to our things.”
“As you wish,” she said. “I’ll wait here.” The four of them returned to the wagon and gathered their personal gear, leaving the provisions in the wagon. When they walked back inside, Maybell was tapping her foot impatiently, her arms crossed.
“If you please,” said Maybell sourly. “Follow me.”She led them to the far left corner of the large room where a large tapestry hung. As they approached, they saw that it covered an archway leading to the rear chambers. Maybell pulled back the tapestry and motioned for the group to enter. She then led them through a series of narrow hallways with evenly spaced doors and floors made from polished wood. The walls were made of rough brick and bore no decoration.
“As you can see,” said Maybell, “despite the beauty of the rest of the temple, we live a simple life.”
“I haven’t noticed any other novices or priestesses,” Millet observed. “Are they all praying?”
“There are only a few of us,” answered Maybell. “The rest have left.”
“Why?” Millet asked. “In times like these, you would think this place would be filled with the faithful.”
“It is,” she said, shooting an angry glance back at Millet. “The faithful are what we have here.”
Millet decided not to pursue the matter further.
“Here we are,” said Maybell, opening one of the doors. “You three will stay here, and you,” she said to Kaylia, “can follow me. We keep a private chamber ready for those who have taken the vow of the Sacred Word.”
Maybell led Kaylia down the hall to a door with a six-inch circle carved in the center. Inside the circle were carved three smaller, interwoven rings.
“This is where you will stay,” Maybell said as she opened the door. “Your vows will be respected while you remain within these walls, and I will have your meals and wash water brought to you.” Kaylia nodded and entered the room.
“I’ll tell your friends how to find you,” Maybell said as she left the room, closing the door behind her.
The room was drab. The plain brick walls were unadorned, and a worn rug covered part of the floor. A bed and a small table were the only furnishings. Kaylia sat cross-legged on the rug and waited.
The room the others shared was just as bare. Bunk beds lined opposite walls, and a table and bench sat at the rear. They had just begun to unpack when there was a knock at the door. Millet opened it to find Maybell, still bearing a sour expression.
“A basin and hot water will be brought for you,” she said curtly.
“Afterwards, you are to make yourself ready for supper with Her Holiness. If you do not have clean robes, they will be provided.”
“Thank you,” said Millet. “Clean robes would be appreciated.”
“If you wish to see your companion, she is down the hall in the room bearing the symbol of the Sacred Word,” said Maybell. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have more important things to attend to.” She turned away and marched down the hall.
“I don’t think she likes us very much,” said Millet, closing the door.
“You can say that again,” Gewey agreed. “I didn’t think we were going to make it past the door. Lucky for us, the High Priestess was there.”
Lee looked worried “Yes. Very lucky.”
“I know that look, my lord,” said Millet. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m not sure,” Lee replied. “Something’s not right here.”
“I agree,” said Millet. “The temple shouldn’t be this empty, regardless of how bad the times have become.”
Lee nodded. “It’s not just that. It’s a feeling I got when you were talking to the High Priestess. Something doesn’t fit. From what Brother Salvo told us, I expected a less hospitable welcome.”
“Quite right, my lord,” said Millet. “If there is something amiss, I’ll wager we’ll find out about it soon enough. In the meantime, I’d better check on Kaylia and explain the vow of the Sacred Word.”
Lee smiled with amusement. “She’s going to love it. Don’t you think?”
“That’s not nice, my lord,” scolded Millet. “Besides, it’s the only way I could think of to keep her isolated.”
“You did well, my friend,” said Lee. “Now go explain everything to Kaylia.”
“What is the vow of the Sacred Word?” asked Gewey once Millet had left.
“The vow of the Sacred Word, my young friend, is what only the most faithful swear before their pilgrimage,” Lee explained. “They don’t speak unless spoken to, their eyes must be lowered in submission, and they must keep their heads covered at all times. They eat alone, sleep alone, and must meditate for three hours a day. They maintain chastity and humility throughout their pilgrimage and for one year after. Should they fail, they are required to present themselves to the High Priestess of their temple for penance. This usually means locking themselves in a small room for the remainder of their lives. Most go insane.”
“That sounds tough,” said Gewey. “Why do they do it?”
“To prove their faith,” he replied. “Why else?”
A few minutes later Millet returned.
“How did she react?” asked Lee.
“Well enough, my lord, but I should have told her before we arrived. She did agree that it was the best way to stay unnoticed, but she wasn’t happy about the three hours a day of meditation. Especially when I told her it must be done in full view of the world rather than in the privacy of her room.”
Lee grinned mischievously. “She’ll be fine,” he said. “Showing a bit of humility is good for the soul.”
“Indeed, my lord,” said Millet. “Perhaps we could all do with some.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” said Gewey. “Why is it Millet pretends to be our leader in public?”
Lee threw his head back, laughing loudly. “Because I am quite possibly the worst actor in the world,” he said. “Millet is much better at playing a role than I am, so we decided long ago that in cases like this, it’s best to let him take the lead.”
“You had no trouble pretending to be a lord from the north who wanted to live out his days in the country,” Gewey noted.
“First of all,” Lee replied, “I am a lord from the north, even though I wasn’t born one. Secondly, I was raised in a small village and understood quite well how to behave. Third, I intended to be as inconspicuous as possible when I moved there, and you’ve seen how well that worked out. I was a topic of conversation more often than the weather.”
“You did have a habit of causing tongues to wag,” said Gewey, smiling.
“My point exactly,” said Lee. “When it comes to blending in, Millet is the better man.”
Just then, a young lady in brown novice robes brought them water and clean robes.
“I’m Celandine,” she said. “Her Holiness asked me to tell you that supper will be ready in one hour. I will return then to escort you to her.”
“Can I ask you a question?” said Millet.
“Certainly,” she replied.
“How many people are at the temple? Counting you, I’ve only seen three.”
“Then you’ve seen us all,” Celandine stated.
Millet looked shocked. “Where did the others go?”
“That is a question best asked of Her Holiness,” she answered.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
“Only three people in the whole temple,” Gewey said, once Celandine had left. “How is that possible?”
“Definitely a question I’ll be asking ‘Her Holiness’,” said Millet.
The three washed and dressed, and an hour later Celandine came to escort them to dinner. They were led back out into the main part of the temple and up the spiral stairs. The upper level halls were well decorated with art and sculptures, and the floor was covered with fine, hand-woven carpets. They walked to the end of a wide hall, where they stopped at a large polished oak door with gold inlay.
“You will be dining in Her Holiness’ private apartment,” said Celandine as she knocked gently on the door. After a moment, Maybell opened the door from within and gestured for them to enter.
The first room of the apartment was lavish beyond anything Gewey had ever seen. The walls were covered in beautiful tapestries, and gold lanterns hung from the ceiling. Glass cases displaying gold figurines lined the doorway leading to the next room, and a small marble statue of Ayliazarah stood in each corner. In the center of the room was a large rectangular table covered by a white silk tablecloth.
A large cushioned chair was at the head of the table and two smaller chairs were placed on either side.
“Please sit,” Maybell instructed. “Her Holiness will be here shortly.”
They took their seats as Celandine left the room. A moment later, a young boy entered carrying a platter filled with cups of wine. He placed a cup in front of each of them and one in front of each of the empty chairs.
Millet noticed Maybell had moved off into the corner and was surveying the group. “Will you be joining us?” he asked.
“She will,” said High Priestess Salmitaya as she entered from the next room.
The High Priestess took her cup and raised it high. “Let us drink to Ayliazarah, Goddess of Love and Fertility. May she cast down her blessing and lift the shadow that has descended on our poor city.”
Everyone lifted their cups and drank deeply. The wine was sweet and of excellent vintage.
“Tell me, Your Holiness,” said Millet. “Is it true there are only three of you?”
Salmitaya sighed heavily. “I fear it is so. This temple once housed over one hundred of the faithful, but those days are long gone.”
“How could such a thing happen?” asked Millet.
“We were a victim of our own arrogance and shortsightedness,” she explained. “My predecessors involved themselves in political maneuvering and were constantly at odds with the governors and local lords. They became more interested in their own ambitions than in the welfare of the temple. In time, they created some very powerful enemies.
“By the time I became High Priestess, there was open hostility between the temple and the government. I tried to repair relations, but sadly, my skills as a politician leave much to be desired.”
“Couldn’t the other temples help?” Millet asked. “Surely they wouldn’t want to see a temple fail.”
Salmitaya smiled sadly. “The other temples were as bad-if not worse-than this one. The whole city became a battleground of government versus religion. As you can see, religion lost.”
“How could they hope to shut down a temple?” said Millet.
“Didn’t the people of the city protest?”
“Why would they?” said Salmitaya. “Governor Mattlin passed laws denying the temples the ability to do good works within the city. They fed and clothed the people as we watched and could
do nothing, and when we protested we were threatened. Without good works to show, faith in the Temple quickly diminished.”
“Why not go to the King?” asked Millet. “Surely he could help.”
“King Grayling III is nothing more than a puppet,” she replied.
“He does the bidding of our enemies.”
“That still doesn’t explain why there are only three of you,” Lee interjected.
“Good,” she said, laughing gently. “I was afraid the rest of you lacked the ability to speak.”
“Forgive me, your Holiness,” Lee said in his best rural accent.
“Me and my young friend are not accustomed to such distinguished company. I hope I didn’t offend you.”
“Not at all,” she said. “In fact, I insist that you feel free to speak your mind. To address what you said, we are all that is left after a long campaign by the governor to shut us down. Most of our novices, monks, and priestesses were from here in Kaltinor. The magistrate began to persecute anyone related to a member of any temple within the city walls. Those that didn’t leave out of fear for their loved ones were threatened with imprisonment. The few we had that came here from abroad eventually left to join other temples and missions. Only my remaining influence with the Council of Noble’s has prevented our complete demise.”
“What about temples in other cities?” asked Gewey. “Couldn’t they help?”
“I wish they could, child,” she said, her eyes fixed on Gewey. “But the world has become a dark place. What little resources they have they can’t spare. No…I’m afraid we’re on our own.”
“There’s an encampment not far to the east,” said Millet. “A man named Brother Salvo runs it. He is good and kind. Perhaps he could help.”
The High Priestess suddenly burst with laughter. “I know Brother Salvo,” she said. “It is I, along with what’s left of the other temples, that bribes the governor into helping him maintain his camp. He thinks we do nothing and accuses us of turning people out. What he doesn’t understand is that at this point, even if we were left alone, we are nearly bankrupt. The King has taxed our coffers dry at the bidding of the lords. You saw for yourself what it takes for a pilgrim to enter the city. I could help a few get in, but we don’t have the means to feed or house them for more than a few weeks.”
Gewey was staring at the riches in the room around him.
“I can see your mind, young one,” she said. “You stare at the treasures in this room and only see how much food and shelter it could provide.”
“I wasn’t…” Gewey stammered.
“It’s alright,” said Salmitaya. “I take no offense, and you’re not wrong. What we have in the way of gold and other valuables could purchase much, if we would actually be allowed to reap the profits. But keeping these things is the only way I can ensure that one day I might restore this place to its former glory. You see, if I sold off or traded our treasures, the tax levied on us would close our doors forever. Together, they are considered relics and can’t be taxed-at least, not yet. As things stand, I can barely feed the three of us. The boy who served you earlier puts himself in great danger when he comes here. His mother loved this place, and when she became ill the sisters and brothers cared for her until she passed. I’ve tried to stop him from coming, but he is very persistent.”
“This is all so unfair,” cried Gewey. “I don’t understand how someone could do this to a temple.”
“In a way, we brought it upon ourselves,” she explained. “If we had stayed faithful to our purpose and left politics alone, we might be having a much different conversation.”
Just then, Celandine entered the room followed by the young boy. They carried trays filled with food and placed them on the
table. The boy ran off and returned with plates and silverware that he quickly put in front of the party.
“Wonderful,” said the High Priestess, “Enough of this sad talk.
Let us enjoy the meal Sister Celandine has prepared.”
“Won’t she be joining us?” asked Millet.
“What a good idea!” Salmitaya replied. “You heard him, sister.
Join us.” Celandine nodded her head and retrieved a chair from the next room.
“Don’t bother serving us, Sister,” said Salmitaya. “We’ll serve ourselves.” She turned back toward her guests and continued.
“Forgive the lack of formality. Celandine is our only cook these days, and it’s usually just three of us. She doubles as server on the rare occasions we have guests.”
“We are used to serving ourselves, Holiness,” said Millet. “Besides, we’re pilgrims-not lords.”
They passed the food around until everyone’s plate was full. The food was good, though not extravagant; it was better than Gewey had tasted in a long time. The conversation was light and cheerful. The High Priestess asked about their travels, and Millet mixed in truth with lies as he told their story. She seemed very interested in Gewey’s farm upbringing. They had told her that he was raised on a farm and had come to the temple after his father died.
“What do you think of the city, Brother Gewton?” asked Salmitaya.
“I bet it’s much different than what you’re used to.”
“Yes it is, Your Holiness,” answered Gewey.
“I have a meeting with the governor tomorrow,” said Salmitaya.
“It’s pointless, but unfortunately, I must attend. I was thinking you might come with me. Would you like that?”
“We would love to come, Holiness,” Millet answered quickly.
“I’m sorry, Brother Milton,” she said. “I could explain away one lonely young pilgrim, but a group may cause problems. I’m sure you don’t mind if the boy accompanies me. The governor wants me there at the crack of dawn, and he takes pleasure in making me wait. I could use the company, and Brother Gewton would get the chance to see the manor. It’s a beautiful house, actually.”
“Of course,” said Milton. “I’m sure Brother Gewton will be happy to accompany you, Your Holiness.”
Lee tried to hide the concern on his face. Gewey, on the other hand, looked excited. The chance to see inside the governor’s manor was something he would have hated to pass up.
“It’s settled, then,” she declared. “I will wake you in the morning and bring you with me. Expect to be away for most of the day. There’s no telling how long I’ll be made to wait.”
When they finished dinner, Maybell and Celandine cleared the table.
Salmitaya stood up. “While I would love to stay up and talk, I must now excuse myself. It’s rare that I have the pleasure of stimulating conversation, but the morning comes early and brings with it a trying day. If you will agree to linger for a few days, I would love to speak with you more. We don’t get much news from the world here.”
“We had indeed hoped to say for a bit,” said Millet. “Thank you again for your hospitality, Holiness. Now, I think I could use some sleep myself.”
Salmitaya bowed. “Until tomorrow, then.”
They all bowed in turn and watched as the High Priestess and Maybell walked from the room. Celandine led them back to their chambers and bid them goodnight.
“I don’t like it,” Lee said, once Celandine had gone. “Something’s wrong. I don’t like that she’s taking such a strong interest in the boy.”
“It may be just as she says,” said Millet.
There was a knock at the door. It was Kaylia. She sat on one of the beds and they told her about the events of the evening.
“I agree with the half-man,” said Kaylia. “Something is wrong here. Her story is too perfect. It fits too well, if you believe her over Brother Salvo.”
“It’s not only that,” said Lee. “If Salmitaya is to be believed, then Brother Salvo may just be unaware of the true circumstances. He didn’t strike me as a liar. But, from the moment she invited us in, I got the feeling that she knew we were coming.”
“I think you’re all being ridiculous,” said Gewey. “If she wanted to hide something, why would she let us stay here in the first place? Why risk us finding out? You say her story fits too well. Would you rather that it didn’t fit?”
“I would rather not feel as though we were walking straight into a trap,” said Lee.
Kaylia nodded. “We should leave now, before the trap is sprung.”
“No,” said Lee. “At least, not yet. If there is something going on here, we need to know whether or not it involves us. Hopefully things are just as Salmitaya says, and I’m just being paranoid; but if she has motives that could hinder us, we need to know.”
“And what about the boy?” Kaylia asked. “You don’t really intend to let him go off with that woman, do you?”
“I don’t see that we have a choice,” Millet answered. “If he refuses, it could raise suspicion. If we’re wrong, and the High Priestess is telling the truth, then we will have insulted her and ruined any chance we had of gathering information during our stay.”
“I’m going,” Gewey said hotly. “I can make this decision for myself.”
“Indeed you can,” Millet said. “But you need to trust in our experience.”
“Listen to him,” Kaylia advised Gewey. “We are trying to out-maneuver a possible predator in her home territory. You need to watch and listen. One day it will be you making these decisions, and when the time comes, you will need to know how.”
“I’m not a child,” Gewey protested. “You act like I don’t know anything.”
“You don’t,” snapped Lee. “You are a child, regardless of how old you may look- and you’re too important for me to let you discover that fact on your own. Until you’re ready, you’ll do as you’re told.”
Gewey crossed his arms and glared furiously at Lee.
“I need you to pay attention tomorrow,” Lee instructed. “If Salmitaya is up to something, we need to know what.”
Kaylia handed Gewey a flask of jawas tea. “Drink this,” she said. “Now that it no longer knocks you out, you can use it to relax and help you sleep.”
Gewey took the flask and drank. Immediately, the tension left his body and he felt his troubles begin to lift away.
Kaylia returned to her room and Lee, Gewey, and Millet went to bed. Gewey, aided by the jawas tea, went right to sleep, but Lee and Millet stayed awake talking for a while longer.
“If I might be so bold, my lord,” said Millet, “you should remember that the boy has been on his own, without a father, for more than two years. He may be still little more than a child, but he’s been treated as a man for quite some time.”
“What do you suggest?” asked Lee. “The boy must learn, and I don’t know how else to teach him.”
“I think that perhaps you should trust the boy’s instincts from time to time,” Millet responded. “The fact of the matter is you intended to let him go with the High Priestess all along. I think all he wants is to be consulted.”
“Funny that you should talk about trusting his instincts,” Lee remarked. “When I first met Kaylia, I told her that it was the one thing I did trust. Still, he is inexperienced. Instincts are no substitute for good judgment. I hope mine is good enough.”
“You do show wisdom, my lord,” yawned Millet. “Occasionally. But you should learn to accept that some things are beyond your control.”
Lee chuckled. “Anyway, we’d better get some rest. Goodnight, Millet,” said Lee.
“Pleasant dreams, my lord,” he replied.