The next day, Gewey noticed more travelers along the road.
Kaylia took special care to remain unseen, despite the fact that her hood completely covered her features. As they rode on past midday, the sheer volume of traffic told Gewey that the city was near.
The farms they passed were no longer abandoned, though the fields were empty from the harvest. Along the way, they were stopped by a man driving a wagon loaded with bricks and masonry tools. Thinking them pilgrims from the east, he asked for news. Lee told him that times were dark and getting darker; the man replied that it was the same here, and moved on unhappily. This darkened Lee’s mood, and he hardly spoke for hours.
“I guess our ruse will be put to the test,” Millet said as the sun began to go down.
Gewey leaned forward and saw an encampment ahead. “Who are they?”
“That, my boy, is a group of real monks,” Lee answered. “I can see ten of them from here.”
“Do we have to stop?” Gewey asked, nervously.
“If we don’t, they’ll wonder why,” Lee responded. “Besides, if we can’t fool them, there’s no way we’ll fool the temple.”
Lee pulled off the road to the edge of the encampment. A tall, hooded monk walked up to the wagon next to Millet.
“Welcome brothers…and sister,” he said, noticing Kaylia’s hooded figure in the back. Even through the robes it was impossible to hide her feminine shape. “I’m Brother Salvo. Please take your ease with us. We have plenty to share.”
“Thank you, Brother,” said Millet, taking the lead. “We will be pleased and grateful to share your fire. I’m Brother Milton, this is Brother Leston,” he said, pointing at Lee. “And in the wagon are Brother Gewton and Sister Kaymaya.”
Millet stepped from the wagon and stood in front of the man.
After exchanging a few words, Millet told the rest to climb down and see to the horses and gear. Lee jumped down while Kaylia and Gewey climbed from the back. Gewey was confused by the sudden role reversal, but Lee acted as if following Millet’s orders was second nature.
The encampment was a beehive of activity as the monks and pilgrims prepared supper. No one spoke to them at first, which pleased Gewey. Kaylia was doing everything she could not to get too close to anyone, but eventually Lee leaned over and whispered in her ear. Gewey saw her nod, then walk over and offer assistance to several monks who were preparing bedding for the group.
“This is not a time to avoid contact,” Lee whispered to Gewey as he passed. “That would be noticed.”
Gewey wondered how Kaylia would avoid giving herself away, but no one gave her a second look. Luckily, she was not the only female pilgrim in camp, and Gewey observed that the other women hardly ever removed their hoods or spoke. It seemed as though their ruse was intact, at least for now. By nightfall, several other groups had arrived at Brother Salvo’s encampment; by the time dinner was served, their number reached about thirty. Millet and the others gathered near the wagon to eat and talk privately.
“A dangerous game,” Kaylia grumbled under her breath.
“But necessary,” Lee insisted.
“I agree,” said Millet. “This is a good chance to test our deception.”
Kaylia clearly didn’t think so. “You had me working openly with these…monks. If one of these oafs had bumped into me and discovered my identity, what then?”
“I’m counting on your elf dexterity to prevent that,” Lee replied. “If you had not behaved as a pilgrim should, it could have put us in danger. And please, don’t call them oafs. Men and women like these here do nothing but good works. Their lives are dedicated to it.”
Just then, Gewey saw the figure of Brother Salvo approaching.
“Brother Milton,” called the tall monk.
Millet stood and bowed low. “I thank you for sharing your meal,” he said. “As do my companions.” Gewey, Lee, and Kaylia bowed their heads in turn.
“We’re happy to have you among us,” said Brother Salvo.
“Pilgrims on the road have become more and more rare these days. It’s good to see those willing to make the journey of faith.
May I sit with you?”
“Of course,” said Millet, offering his blanket. Millet sat next to Kaylia so that he could face Brother Salvo directly.
“Where do you come from?” Salvo asked.
“We are from the Temple of Ayliazarah in the eastern kingdom of Palinsali,” answered Millet. “We’re on our way to the Temple of the Far Sky.”
“Ahhh,” said Salvo. “Servants of sacred love. We haven’t seen many in these parts for some time. You have a long journey ahead. The Temple of the Far Sky is many weeks from here.”
“All the more reason to thank you for your hospitality,” Millet said graciously.
Brother Salvo pushed back his hood. He was older than he sounded, yet he was still quite handsome. The years showed in his eyes, but his blond hair and squared features suggested the type of maturity that Gewey had heard the women of Sharpstone speak of with admiration and desire. His skin had a golden hue that could only have been the result of years of hard work in the sun.
“You won’t find much generosity beyond this point,” Brother
Salvo lamented. “The world is being consumed by darkness. All the news we get here is filled with sadness.”
“Are you part of a temple?” asked Millet.
“No,” said Salvo. “I follow Saraf, but for the past few years I have maintained this encampment. We serve as a refuge for pilgrims and travelers, though lately there have only been a few. This is the largest group we’ve had in months.”
“I see,” Millet said thoughtfully. “But why do the pilgrims not take refuge in the city temples? It’s less than a day’s ride from here.”
Brother Salvo smiled feebly. “I see that things aren’t as bad in the east. Here, the temples are turning everyone away-and it’s the same in the western kingdoms. The High Priestess of the Temple of Ayliazarah, in Kaltinor, has actually turned out her own novices and acolytes.”
Millet looked mortified. “How could she? She has no right.”
“I agree,” said Salvo, “but there’s little that can be done.”
“What has caused this?” Kaylia asked suddenly.
Gewey felt Lee stiffen next to him.
“I don’t know, Sister,” Salvo replied. “But I’ve heard stories- terrible stories.”
“What kind of stories?” asked Millet before Kaylia could speak again.
“It is said that Angraal is alive again, and the dead are rising from their graves,” whispered Salvo. “Stories are spreading everywhere, of an evil power bringing darkness across the land.”
“Angraal?” said Gewey.
“Please, don’t speak that name too loudly,” Salvo warned, looking around to see if they had been heard. “You may be too young to know the story, but a thousand years ago Angraal was a kingdom far to the north, well beyond the White Wilderness. Legend says that the Demon King Ratsterfel rose up to challenge the Gods. The war raged for a hundred years. Eventually, he was destroyed in a battle with heaven itself-but not before he had laid waste to half the world. Some say he has returned to take his revenge.”
“Do you believe that?” asked Gewey.
Brother Salvo lowered his eyes. “I’m not sure what I believe anymore,” he said. “But I know that I’ve never seen such hardship in the world. There is something sinister behind it. I can feel it. Whether or not it’s the return of the Demon King is impossible to say, but there is a pestilence spreading, and it’s growing stronger. If it wasn’t for the help I get from passing pilgrims, and the few nobles still dedicated to the Gods, I wouldn’t be able to do what little I manage.” He sighed heavily and shook his head.
Millet reached over and put his hand on brother Salvo’s shoulder. “Have faith, Brother. Things will get better. What you do here is important; there’s nothing little about kindness.”