Paladins of the Pickle Goddess

It felt like the world slowed for a moment. I stopped with the stew halfway to my lips. “Sorry,” I said. “I must have misheard. Your aunt? I thought all of the Paladins died!”

“Oh, common misunderstanding.” She offered the ladle. “More stew?”

I pulled back. “I’m fine.” Had she put something in the stew? Was I hallucinating?

“So she was a Paladin of Andrena?” That was Apis, speaking where my mind had failed.

The old lady shook her head. The others in the cabin were silent. Just watching. Had I walked into a trap? Some sort of elaborate joke on me? “Of course not. Is that who recruited all of you? Andrena?”

When I didn’t respond, she leaned back, chuckling. “What times we live in, for Andrena to have a Paladin. But I suppose that’s who’s left. No, no. My auntie was a Paladin of Ursus. A proper Paladin!”

“But then, how did she-”

“Well, he left, of course. Unfortunate, but who knows what motivates the gods. Back in the day, he loved war nearly as much as Cabellus!” I stared at her. She stirred the stew pot. “What did you think happened? My auntie never wanted to speak about it. Said it was the worst day of her life.” She shrugged. “Maybe he just didn’t want to be on the losing side.”

“But-“ I’d always thought something else happened. Something major, something horrible. For every Paladin to lose their powers- to no longer be able to banish souls, to punish those unworthy of the gods? That was horrifying. It had lost us the empire. Changed the country from the beating heart of the world to just an appendix.

She was blaming it on hibernation? “He would abandon people just because he might lose a war? They were his believers! His Paladins dedicated their entire lives to him! When he left…” I didn’t know how to finish the sentence. Who knew what Paladins, in the height of battle, had actually been capable of? Rumor spread faster than truth. I’d heard of strength large enough to bend steel, of hands covered in fire. Of people splitting souls and casting them into the stars with their bare hands.

In my experience, mostly Andrena just yelled at me and then ignored me afterwards. I wouldn’t mind some otherworldly strength. Or a few bees, at least. Did the hive count?

“Well, who knows what the gods think,” she said. She reached for a fire poker. “But I’m glad to see the old blade is being used again. It wouldn’t let itself be drawn unless a god approved of you.”

At that, I glanced at Duran. He had drawn the blade. Did the gods approve of him?

Maybe the sword was broken.

I tried to refocus. “If your auntie was a Paladin of Ursus, why is she in a temple of Teuthida? Isn’t that a betrayal?”

“Well, he never came back, did he?” She reached over for a shaker of herbs, tapped a few more into the stew pot. After a moment of thought, she reached for a flask and uncorked it, offering it to me. I declined. Apis took it and took a generous swig. “Auntie wanted to make sure she’d dedicated her soul to someone before she went. Although I told her- you’re still young yet! Wait a few more years! He might wake up, and then you’ll be stuck with the smell of squid on you for your time in the fields of the dead!”

“Mmm-hmm!” Chimed in the other figure, who still hadn’t spoken. When it moved, I realized it was an ancient man. He had about two strands of hair left and a massive mole next to his nose, giving him the appearance of a statue more than a person. He was more blanket than man. “Can’t believe she dragged us all the way up here. We should have told her to use up her fool’s errand on her own.”

“Well, love, I couldn’t just let her do it by herself. What if she got lost?” The old woman waved the ladle.

Next to the door, the younger woman stepped a little closer to the crossbow. I looked in between them. “Is this… your daughter?”

“Apprentice,” said the woman. “We’re locksmiths.” She nodded to the woman. “She’s been with us ever since she was a little girl! Twelve, weren’t you?”

“Thirteen.” The woman folded her arms. “You should go to bed, mistress. You know you were saying you felt sleep deprived after the cold last night.”

“Oh, let me have some fun. No one comes to visit, lately!” The woman twisted her back. There was a set of pops loud enough to tune out the fire.

I perked up. “A locksmith? We were looking at the boulders, but…”

The woman shook her head. “No lock,” she said. “Wrong end of the door. Better try the front side.”

“We already gave our equipment to the last girl that came up to visit,” said the old man. He held out liver-spotted hands to the fire. “But you should tell her we offered you as traveling companions. No one could turn down a Paladin!”

“The last girl?” I frowned. “The one that wants to be a priestess?”

“No, no, the other one.”

Duran perked up. “The one with the group of nobles?”

“Oh, of course not! Who do you think we are?”

“Katla? The one with the cloak and the sword?”

The woman nodded. “She seemed like a real straight-forward girl,” she said. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to help you.”

I was cold. My knees were scraped. I was losing patience.

“What do you mean, we can’t be part of it?”

“I said what I said.” Katla scowled. “I can’t be giving out help to every person that asks for it! What kind of bleeding heart do you think I am?”

“They said you should help us. Are you going to disrespect your elders? Besides, we’re not just anyone. Don’t those oatcakes mean anything to you?”

“Anyone can make oatcakes.” She folded her arms. “No. And I mean it.”

She turned on a heel and stalked away. I could hear her jacket clinking. “That- that-” I clenched my fists. “I wish I could just use the abyssal blade,” I said. “She doesn’t need her soul.”

“I’m sure you don’t mean that.”

I jumped half out of my boots. “Stop walking so quietly.”

Apis was standing next to me, blinking innocently. I needed to put a bell on him. “If we start being helpful to her, maybe she’ll come around,” he said.

“With what time? We have to be out of here before it gets too cold for the bees.”

We both turned to watch the cart. Duran was approaching the hive with a bowl of sugar-water, a basket over his head. As we watched, he tripped over the edge of the cart and nearly toppled into the hive. I felt Apis wince more than saw it.

“I admit,” he said, “The timing is not ideal.”

“Do you think she likes mead?”

We both turned to watch the dark cloak as it disappeared around the temple. “I don’t think she drinks. She seems very…. sober. And directed.”

“She likes oatcakes, but not that much,” I said. “So that’s my contribution already failed.”

“She definitely doesn’t approve of the sword,” Apis added. “We could tell her that you’re a Paladin?”

We watched as a flock of birds went flying, scared off by her stomping. “I don’t think that would help,” I said.

Behind us, Duran popped up. He pulled the basket off of his head, straightening his cloak. “Should we check on Vita’s ankle? While we’re doing nothing, I mean.” I only spotted one bee sting. I was, reluctantly, impressed.

“Who’s Vita?”

He frowned at me. “She was our neighbor for years. You really never introduced yourself?”

Vita, it turned out, was doing badly. She was halfway out of her tent, on her elbows, and yelling at Herminius about bedside manner.

“I really think we could do something about the crossbow,” he said. “Maybe you could use it to hold yourself up-”

“I am not doing anything with that crossbow,” she said. “Are you actually mad? I don’t want to die.”

Herminius was flushed and, for once, looked unsure. “But- well, if you don’t want to splint your ankle, what am I meant to do?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Get me out of this tent, at least! I’m sick of it.”

Herminius was at a bad angle. As we approached the tent, he pulled Vita up, then lost hold of her and dropped her entirely. The pained howl echoed through the entire camp. I ran the rest of the way.

“Look,” he said, at my expression, “It wasn’t on purpose.”

“Don’t do anything,” I said. I pushed my sleeves up. “We can move her.”

When two people were working together, it didn’t take much to move Vita. In a few moments, she was next to the fire, gingerly working at her ankle and trying to untie her boot. “It swelled up like nothing else after I went to bed,” she muttered. “I think it’s only a sprain. But I can’t get it off.”

Duran held up a knife. I pushed it back down. “We’ll douse it in water,” I offered. “The leather should swell.”

I watched over her shoulder for Katla as we worked at the leather, inch by aching inch, but the other woman never emerged.

When Vita’s foot was finally free- and in a clean sock- I leaned back, sighing.

“Any chance of that medicinal mead?” she said, hopeful. “I’m not sure what it did, but I sure felt better afterwards.”

“It depends on if you’ve got anything in exchange.”

“All I’ve got is apple butter,” she said. She scratched at the edge of her ankle, then winced. “Ugh. What a waste of a trip! I can’t even become a priestess, my ankle is wrong, and I’m almost out of apple butter.” She looked up, eyebrows wiggling. “Unless you’ve got a way in? Surely I’ve earned a way onto the expedition.”

Shameless. “Aren’t you, what, ten? Shouldn’t you be trying to go home, now that you’re hurt?”

“I’m sixteen. I’ve got the right to do what I want. And I’m not going back to that apple nightmare.” She slumped back on the log. “You understand, don’t you, Herminius?”

Herminius had been poking at the embers, trying to get the fire going. It had died out even further under his ministrations. “What?”

“You had your own career! You know what it’s like to have goals.”

“Oh.” He paused. “Well, actually, my father was a councilman, and his father before him…”

“Ugh! Everyone has such little imagination!” She threw up her hands. “I suppose you haven’t made any progress, either.”

She gave us a cheeky glance. I looked away and resolved to tell her nothing.

Duran perked up. “We have! We know the people on top of the waterfall are locksmiths, and they gave their tools to Katla. But she won’t let us on the expedition. She won’t even take our food in exchange!”

I exchanged a look with Apis. He half-shrugged at me. Fifteen, I reminded myself. Duran was fifteen.

“Great!” Vita leaned forward, clearly felt her ankle give way, and leaned back again. “This is perfect! She’s been trying to get some apple butter for ages, but she tried to knife me when I showed up so I’ve been keeping it away from her! I’ll give her some, but only if you let me come!”

Herminius had stopped poking the fire. He was staring at us, clearly hopeful. “And me, perhaps?”

“Oh, what have you done? I’m helping!”

“Well, I offered them a place at my fire, the first night. And rabbits!”

“Rabbits that Katla trapped.”

“Look,” I said, before anyone else could put themselves on an expedition that might not even be happening. “We’ll go try the apple butter. But I’m not guaranteeing anything. And if you come, you have to figure out splints or something. We’re not carrying you the whole way.”

Vita brightened at once. “Great! It’s a deal!”

I looked between Duran and Apis. Surely one of them could get me out of this.

Apis was looking in the trees, clearly searching for Katla. Duran just looked excited. I closed my eyes and sighed. In the course of a day, our group had nearly doubled in size. We needed to get in the temple before anyone else added themselves to the mess.