Monday, August 9, 2004

part 4
The small group of people gathered outside of the door to Synthia’s room began to whisper to each other as their concern about the three women inside grew. Certainly none of them was strong enough to force the door, as it was obvious the bolt had been drawn. The all talked about the shouting, and the crashing, and then the silence, wondering if someone was seriously hurt. Ralfden had sent Walter Bradsmore, another one of the regular patrons, for Corby the cook who he hoped might know of a way inside. All together there were nine people crowded at the top of the stairs waiting and wondering just what was going on.
Corby and Walter pushed past the crowd and met Ralfden at the door. Corby was not a big man but he was strong, if a bit out of shape in the middle, and he carried a long knife, and a worried look. He stroked his thinning hair with his free hand nervously while he asked, “what the devil’s going on, Ralf?”
“It sounded like there was a fight going, a lot of shouting then some crashing around. I think someone might be hurt, I heard crying definitely,” Ralfden answered.
“Well out of the way then.” Corby’s hands were hard and large, and with more force than Ralfden was capable he pounded several times on the door shouting, “Camilla, Miss ‘Dez’. Is all you all right in there? Hello?” He stopped pounding and placed his ear against the wood. “Wait,” he said, “I hear someone coming.”
A sudden silence fell over the group as the bolt was slid back, and the door slowly pulled open.
Ralfden rushed immediately to put an arm around Camilla’s waist as the woman appeared to him to be almost dead. She was pale and there was blood on her clothes. She held her hand on the top of her head, and he noticed a red soaked rag between her fingers there. He moved her back into the room and made her sit down on the bed. “Goodness, Camilla what happened,” he said.
More of the patrons crowded in the room, even though Corby was trying to hold them back, his efforts hampered by his own curiosity. Camilla leaned heavily on Ralfden, and he was hard pressed to hold her upright on the bed. She tried to talk. It was obvious the effort caused her pain. Her voice came out in a broken whisper, “that bitch hit me with something.”
“Synthia hit you?” Ralfden asked in surprise.
There were a few gasps in the crowd, enough to cause Camilla to raise her head. Corby saw that her left eye was red, filled with blood. He had seen that before in patrons after a brawl. She turned her head, and Ralfden could tell she was thinking about something very intently. She lowered her head and said, “yes. No, no it was the other one. It was Raven. I was talking to Synthia, and Raven started shouting at me, I,” and then she paused and her voice took on a renewed strength. “I tried to get Raven to leave us, leave Synthia alone. She was making the poor girl cry. I turned around to comfort Synthia, and then something broke over my head. I heard it, but only felt it a little, my body seemed to stiffen up. I couldn’t move, then I blacked out. She must have hit me once or maybe twice more. I think she kidnapped Synthia.”
It all seemed incredible to Ralfden, but before he could ask for more details Corby was speaking up to the crowd. “I never liked that girl, Bascondes,” and he spit on the floor, “nothing but trouble.”
“We should be able to catch her. She could not have gotten very far,” said Walter.
Ralfden made Camilla lie down, and then asked some of the patrons to clean up the room, and get some water to clean her wound. He spoke slowly, without force, and a few of the onlookers in the back moved away. He leaned into Walters’s side and took his arm forcefully. He whispered, “do you really thing Raven could have done this?”
Walter turned to look straight into Ralfden’s eyes. The smell of wine was heavy on Walter’s breath as he said without restraint. “You heard Corby. Bascondes. Is there any doubt? Probably been planning this for months the little gypsy.”
“But she said Synthia at first,” Ralfden told him, but Walter pulled away.
Ralfden had thought Raven was a secretive young woman but he could not bring himself to believe she was capable of this kind of violence. The room was emptying as an older man was sweeping up pieces of the shattered jug, and a woman he didn’t recognize was cleaning the top of Camilla’s head with a large wet rag. Looking at Camilla lying in the bed reinforced his feelings. Raven was not tall enough to hit Camilla on the top oh her head. Raven was not four and one half feet tall if she was a foot, and Camilla was taller than most men, probably six feet if maybe a little under. He decided to ask Camilla again what happened.
He stood beside the woman cleaning Camilla’s hair of dried blood. He noticed something peculiar about the woman. She was very fair, and her arms were strong with knotted muscles more likely to be seen on a man. She wore red bracelets, thick leather boots, expensive looking wool pants and a shirt that was of shimmering water-like material embroidered with black lines in the pattern of dead trees. Her hair was red-gold and cut short at her shoulders, and she wore clips to pull her bangs away from her face. The peculiar thing however, was a mark on the back of each hand. He didn’t think it was a tattoo, he had heard of those. It looked like thick paint and the shape was of large letter ‘Z’ with a sword, or stick through the middle. The woman gave him an uncomfortable feeling.
“Camilla, can you tell me again how this happened?” He asked stroking Camilla’s cheek with the back of his hand, and noticing how soft her cheek was.
“She can’t hear you now,” the strange woman said. Her accent was strange to him.
He began to choke up, but the stranger smiled at him and said, “don’t worry, she is fine. I gave her a liquid that eases pain and makes you sleep for only a few hours.”
“Why did you do that?” He asked unable to hide the nervousness in his voice.
“She needed it. I had some with me. I get terrible headaches sometimes. A doctor in Vologna gave me a recipe to make the liquid myself. It is harmless, if a little addictive.” She spoke quickly and it was hard for him to catch everything she said.
“You look troubled. Let me introduce myself. I am Henrietta Andestropov, Second Sergeant of the Sovereign Sisterhood, keeper of the lords law, and defender of the wronged.”
As she introduced herself she stood and bowed, folding her arms across her stomach. Absolutely nothing she said made any sense to him. She was taller than he was, not Eshian obviously. He had heard many things at the bank, many names of people and places, and yet nothing she said was familiar. “It is a pleasure to met you Mrs. err Miss? Andestropov.”
“It is Miss, or better Sergeant Andestropov. I can tell you have some reservations about me. Don’t be alarmed. I know the title is unfamiliar to people in this area. I am an agent of the Church at Ses-Theth. You have heard of that I hope?”
“Yes, yes I have, the largest religious presence in Anthandra, across the sea. I didn’t know they had a military arm. Oh I’m sorry I didn’t mean to imply you were a soldier, that was rude of me to assume.” He noticed a twinge in her check that made him feel as if he had just committed a great sin against her faith.
“I am a soldier, but…well it is very complex right know. I will explain if you like, but it would take a long time, and if you are not a follower of Xetas Lord of the Waters it may take a very long time,” she said with a smile.
“My orders, currently, are to travel to the town of Bellwater and train a local citizen of good standing to become the Shier-reef for Lord Torpin. Lord Torpin has a special relationship with my order, and with the church. We are honored to be asked to support him in the development of his township here in this country. As a Second Sergeant of the order I cannot willingly relinquish my task in order to investigate this crime against this woman. Only a First Sergeant may make that determination on her own, but should a witness request an investigation than I would be legally bound by the tenets of my order to bring the person responsible for this crime to justice.”
As she spoke she looked around the room. It didn’t offend him that she appeared to treat him below her station. He was used to that kind of treatment from rich merchants. Something about the way she was looking so intently at every detail of the room reassured him that she was a professional of the highest order. “I was downstairs when the argument started. I followed them up the stairs when I heard a thump on the floor after the door closed. I heard a lot of screaming and the crash that must have been Camilla getting hit on the head, but I didn’t actually see anything. I don’t know that that would make me a witness,” he said trying to be helpful.
“Of course it does. You have a responsibility to report this to your local Shier-reef. And you can request an investigation if you wish,” she now looked at him with intensity.
“We don’t have a Sheriff, if that’s what you mean. The town relies on soldiers from Fort Millwillow to keep the peace,” he sensed right away her discomfort at hearing this news, “but I guess it would be a good thing to ask you to investigate, for Camilla’s sake. We all want to know how things got this bad between the three of them.”
“It is my privilege to be of service to you sir,” she said with another bow, “I will complete this investigation promptly and inform the authorities at Millwillow of my dispensation.” She walked briskly out of the room, and Ralfden was left feeling uneasy about the whole thing.
Ralfden sat by Camilla’s side for the rest of the night. It was the first time he had been alone with her, even after sixteen years of being a customer of her inn. He had never though he was falling for her, romantically, but he always respected her business sense and success. She was probably his age, and he remembered how years ago she was even heavier than she was now. She had matured, as had he. She was certainly nothing to look at, not comparable in the least to Synthia in face or form. But women like Synthia always seemed empty headed anyway. Now, Raven, he liked her so much. She was pretty, and smart, and a little wild to. He came here as much to be around her, as he did to be around Camilla. The stranger, Henrietta, was honest about the drug she had given to Camilla, and Camilla wakened in only a few hours as she had promised.
Camilla’s eye looked bad to him but she smiled when she was able to see Ralfden with the other eye. “Ralf, what’s going on? How long have I been sleeping?” She asked.
“Only a few hours, Camilla. Do you feel better? The sergeant gave you a drug, she said it would make you feel better.”
“Sergeant!” She said in a startle. “What sergeant?”
“A church woman. Her name was Henrietta Ander-something. She was very helpful,” he said while helping Camilla to sit up.
“You said sergeant?” Camilla asked again. “What kind of sergeant? She was Anthandran? Tell me?” Camilla seemed agitated, and Ralfden wondered if the drug was causing the reaction. Then he remembered that Camilla had said she to was from Anthandra, or Trith one of those places across the sea.
“She said she was an official of the church, that church from Anthandra. Said she was a Second Sergeant, what ever that means,” he said.
Camilla rose to her feet in a burst saying repeatedly, “oh lord, oh lord, oh lord. What did you tell her? I didn’t see her in the inn. Was she there when it happened? Did you ask her to do anything? Tell me she didn’t offer to help?”
“Slow down Camilla.” Ralfden followed her around the room as she paced and wrung her hands. “That’s a lot of questions. I don’t see what you’re upset about. She seemed a real honest and good woman, said she would investigate this thing that happened. I think it is a good thing to. I would hate it if that Walter got the crowd all fired up into some kind of lynch mob. That woman will take good care of things.”
Camilla dropped onto the bed her eyes glazing over. When she finally spoke her voice sounded like it was coming from the grave. “There wont be a need for a lynch mob. The Sisterhood only knows one kind of justice. You just sentenced Raven to death.”


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