Rolling her eyes slightly, Gabriella thrust a scroll into his hand, along with an amulet. "Five ducks migrate in winter," she said.
The guard Captain blanched at the words and quickly looked over the scroll and amulet, before handing them back.
"A thousand apologies, Enlightened Sister… I had no idea."
"Obviously. I don't suppose you could give us an escort out of the city?"
The Captain smiled ingratiatingly. "Of course, Enlightened Sister." He snapped his fingers and his men put away their weapons.
As they began to move at a more relaxed pace, Gabriella took the opportunity to catch up with developments regarding the Brotherhood in Turnitia.
"How are arrests going? Brotherhood and morality crimes in particular?"
"I'm proud to say that the rate of morality crime has been dropping by the week," the Captain said primly. "Every other vice den and Brotherhood safe house has been empty for weeks, some even for months. Of course the thieves guilds still provide problems."
"Thank you, Captain," Gabriella said thoughtfully. She could feel an idea forming at the back of her mind, or at least a fragment of an idea. She didn't like it much at all.
"I don't see why you had to kill him." Crowe said, as they rode together on the road south. "With Feyn dead, you've lost me a valuable employer."
"Sandor Feyn was on a list of proscribed men. It's the duty of all members of the Order of the Swords of Dawn to eliminate such dangerous men, regardless of any other considerations, if they are found."
"I hope it's a short list."
"There are thirteen names currently on it."
"And you just happen to have memorized them? Or just Feyn's?" He rolled his eyes. "Or are you just making this up?"
"It's part of the vows a Knight of the Swords takes when he or she is formally invested."
Crowe gritted his teeth and refused to speak for quite a while. "Well, it's done now. Feyn did his thing and you did yours." He continued reluctantly. "What was it like? Being helped to remember?"
"It was strange," Gabriella said. "When Feyn was talking I saw things. Memories, but… clearer. And some of them were places I'd never been, things I've never seen or done. Does it mean that Feyn was in my head?" Gabriella shuddered.
Crowe almost laughed at the thought. Feyn didn't have a magical bone in his body; just a talent for mild hypnosis.
He thought of telling Gabriella this, but knew in his heart that she wouldn't believe him. Truth to tell, he was as preoccupied about the goblin's mention of a Glass Mountain as she was. More so, really. He tried to tell himself that the gobbo was lying or delirious and that no such thing existed, but he couldn't stop himself feeling afraid.
"Something bothering you?" Gabriella asked.
"Old debts." He said quietly. "Just old debts."
"Debts from the 'Glass Mountain'?"
It was the last question Crowe expected her to ask. "No!"
"Lie to me again and I'll cut your tongue out!"
"I'm a thief, a liar, a murderer, and a lot of other nasty things, Dez. Get used to it."
"Then tell me what you know about the Glass Mountain."
"Really. I've never heard of it. But the name… reminded me of something else."
"Something similar?"
"It just reminded me of an old sailors' legend, but it strikes me that you probably haven't spent much time among sailors."
"However did you guess?"
"I more sort of hoped."
"The legend?" she pressed.
"The story goes that somewhere in the far oceans, beyond the Stormwall, a month west of Sarcre and then God know how far south, there's an island made of diamond. They call it the Isle of the Star, because supposedly it was a star that fell to Twilight. They say a man could make himself rich beyond the proverbial dreams of avarice just by picking up a handful of pebbles from the Isle's beach.
"Of course, with such treasures to be had, there had to be an equally great risk."
He nodded. "There's the Stormwall, which is utterly impassable, at least to normal ships. Imagine hurricanes that could smash the Great Cathedral of Scholten to rubble if they ever came inland, then imagine ten times worse. They say, the island is home to the sea devils." His eyes were looking somewhere more distant by now. Gabriella couldn't help but wonder what they were seeing. Treasures or terrors?
"You were on one of those ships bound for the island, weren't you Crowe?"
"Yes, the Brotherhood — well, I didn't know it was them at the time, who had chartered the ship — employed me for the voyage."
"I was a sword-for-hire looking for work. The ship's Captain, Margrave, was looking for mercenary guards and he hired me for the expedition. Someone was going to pay him handsomely to look for the Isle of the Star. Turns out that 'someone' was a high ranking member of the Brotherhood of the Divine Path, with a couple of really strong Brotherhood magicians on his payroll. None of the rest of us knew that at first. We were just a couple of hired blades and a lot of sailors."
"What happened on the voyage? I'm assuming you didn't find the Isle?"
"Do I look like I came home with a purse full of diamonds?"
"Yet, you did come home."
"Alone, yes."
"What happened?"
"The Stormwall. You might think you've experienced a storm — even a hurricane — but it's nothing, compared to a storm at sea."
"How many people were on your ship?"
"Seventy four." He remembered all their faces; he could see them now, and hear their voices. "Seventy three of them are dead."
"I'm sorry."
Gabriella felt drained just hearing the story. So many people in such a confined space. He must have known all of them and been friends with many. One loss was a killing pain to her — how must it feel, magnified seventy-fold? That was typical of the Brotherhood, not caring how many families they destroyed in their quest to promote and justify their apostasy
He smiled faintly. "Don't look so down, Dez. At least some of them were Brotherhood types. An investor and the two magicians."
"It's still seventy innocents, as well as those three."
"Weather is God's doing, isn't it? Drunkards, brawlers and whoremongers every one. I wouldn't mourn their loss."
"Come on, sinner. We're going."
"And where are we going?"
"We're going to see my mother."
"I have to admit, lass, it's a long time since any skirt took me home to meet her mother. But this isn't exactly how I imagined our relationship going." "She's an archivist for the Faith, at the Cathedral in Andon. I want to consult some of the records she's got in her library there. She used to tell me a story when I was a child and I need to know the original historical version."
"What story? What records?"
"The records about Mandrian's Hands and the story about the Glass Mountain. If it exists, and has been recorded by the Faith, there'll be a location, or even a map, in the Archive. There's a much bigger archive at Scholten, but my mother will have a better chance of having the Glass Mountain story. Mandrian's records might not be there, but he fought in Pontaine so a copy should have been kept when the originals went to Scholten."
Crowe was silent for a long time. "Why would the Faith have records about Joachim of Mandrian?"
"Because if he fought with the Hands at Freiport, then he fought for us. And the Faith records everything."
"That I believe. But, why am I coming with you? It seems to me that the opposite direction is looking pretty bloody good right now."
"If you want to go somewhere, I won't stop you. The Faith is fair, sinner."
Crowe scowled as if he'd tasted something particularly unpleasant. "Can't say as I feel particularly redeemed, love."
She could have said that he had helped her and so she felt she owed the same, but she suspected that he wouldn't appreciate that sentiment. She saw that there was something in his soul that needed healing and it would be fair turnabout for what he had done in Solnos.