Paladins of the Pickle Goddess

We had been following the river Vitreous, the heart-line of the country, for days. The color changing from a silted brown to a bottle-green. Now, I stared up at a clear waterfall. The water danced from bright golden to bubble-pale in the sunset.

It was cupped by a wide valley. From where we stood, it could have fallen forever, pale water against dark stone. Where there should have been a spray of white water at the bottom, a monument of stone captured it instead. The Temple of Teuthida.

It was a round, squat thing. More of a fortress than the airy, marble thing I’d seen in the Capital. I sighed. I could see my breath in the air.

No one responded. I looked behind me. “Duran?”

The cart buzzed. The bees looked back at me, as much as bees ever could. “You were meant to keep an eye on him,” I accused. They didn’t reply.

“Apis,” I tried. He’d just been here. What had happened to the plan? To us going in slowly, assessing the situation slowly?

A sword gleamed in the shade of a tree, the figure obscured by the shade of the sunset. “Speak your name and business.”

I leaned back. Faustina whinnied. “What’s it to you?”

I had seen hundreds of people travel to visit the Temple of Teuthida over the years. Noblemen, peasants, teachers, priests. They had all spoken of this place with a horrified reverence. A temple you had to travel through, understand yourself to unlock. It would show you the lies you told yourself. Help you understand the peak of truth.

No one had mentioned bandits. Had it fallen apart so quickly?

“What have you done with my companions?” Surely they hadn’t just wandered off. My heart thudded in my chest. “Who are you?”

The sword stayed up at my neck. I reached back to where I knew the abyssal sword was stashed, but I didn’t make the final movement. The sword was too close, gleaming bright. I couldn’t see anything in the brightness of the setting sun. “I’m a concerned citizen.” The voice sounded feminine, a little young. Steady and strong, though.

“This is a temple. It’s accepted for anyone to visit.”

“You don’t look like a pilgrim. People are meant to give away all of their possessions before visiting the temple.”

“I’ve just got what I need to feed myself,” I snapped, and pulled on the reins. Faustina did nothing. Of course she did nothing, the useless piece of muscle. I should have given her up weeks ago. “Unless you object to some warm food?”

The sword stopped moving closer. “What?”

“Food. Surely you’ve heard of it.”

I hadn’t expected my lie- or, really, my truth- to be questioned so quickly. I did, after all, plan on going through the temple. Just not for the usual reasons. “You plan on… cooking?”

“What did you do with my companions! I need them.” I reached for the sword again. “A temple is meant to be a place of peace.”

“Winter approaches.” The sword finally lowered. “I do not know where your companions are. But if you promise not to take our stores of food, I will allow you to join the camps around the temple.”

“Who died and put you in charge?”

The figure finally stepped forward where I could see her. She reached up and pulled down a hood. She wore large glasses, shining in the light- obscuring her eyes. Her hair was dark and pulled into a messy knot. Her figure was slumped, defeated. Even the tip of her sword dragged in the dust. “Everyone,” she said. “Haven’t you heard?”

She didn’t respond to my attempts to make friends- or, at least, reduce our enmity- as I guided my mule towards the temple, cart and bees clattering behind me. I called out for Apis and Duran as I went. Apis eventually emerged from the trees, yawning- apparently he’d gone off to look for other paths to the temple, to avoid detection- but Duran remained missing.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” he said.

“Famous last words,” I said, leaning in to make sure we weren’t overheard. “Have you seen her sword? Do you think they’ve already resorted to martial law?”

Apis glanced between me and the guard that had held me up. “Surely not,” he said. “It’s not a temple of Cabellus. Anyone here would have come searching for peace. For truth.”

“That sword doesn’t look very peaceful to me.”

He was right, though; I couldn’t do much about it. Duran’s fate was his own, for the time being.

Now that we drew closer, I could see more detail. The temple was perfectly round. Like someone had set out to build a tall tower and just given up halfway through. Every so often- about every eighth of a turn- at the base of the tower, a grate had been installed. Water poured through, forming small streams that merged to create the river we’d been following all this way. Here, at least, it lived up to its name. The water was clear.

More interesting than the boring construction of stone were the people I saw, clustered along the edges of the temple. Smoke was puffing up from three or four fires. A tent was thrown up, as well as what looked like a wooden shack with a blanket over it for warmth. I could smell meat cooking. I felt my stomach growl. We were running low on supplies.

I dismounted as we got closer, leading the cart. I squinted up at the edge of the mountains. The sun was beginning to set, highlighting them in brilliant, jagged detail. Still… I thought I could see something up there. It looked like there was more smoke. Maybe a glow of a fire.

I glanced over to speak to the guard- I had something to say about other Pilgrims giving up their possessions- but she was gone.

“They’re no fun up there,” said a man. “Better to stay down next to the temple. The company is better.” He looked up from his fire and waved. “Here to try your luck?”

I blinked. “Sorry?”

He pointed with the skewer. “The temple,” he said. “You’re here for it too? My apologies.”

I stopped the cart from rolling any further. “You know what happened?”

He looked somewhat familiar, although from where I couldn’t say. He had a fashionable little beard, a tiny point with no mustache. Although he wore plain clothes, for a pilgrim, he didn’t carry himself like someone humble. He held his chin a little too high. If he’d been visiting the old inn, I would have charged him double.

“Me? No.” He reached up and took a bite of his meat. I watched as his nose wrinkled, apparently in disgust. Yes- definitely a noble. He clearly couldn’t cook for himself. “All I know is, my plans were ruined. I was partway through the outer ring when I had to run for my life. I’m fairly sure it’s completely collapsed.”

“….I see,” I said. The temple looked intact to me. It was solid stone. Surely someone would have noticed it collapsing. “The outer ring?”

“The three rings, of course,” he said, as though that explained it. “Have a seat! Plenty of food to go around. Young Katla has been hunting very well for us!”

Young Katla was nowhere in sight. I squinted in additional suspicion for a moment. Then I frowned. “Duran!”

Duran looked up from next to the fire, where he was re-arranging the logs. “Madam Elysia! You made it!”

“I made it? You were meant to be on the cart!”

Apis reached over and pressed a hand on my arm before I could reach forward and drag Duran back to the cart.

“Thank you for the offer,” he said. “We’d be happy to accept.”

I dragged him aside- well, a few feet, anyway. “What do you mean, happy to accept?” I hissed. “He could be a suspicious character! He stole my apprentice!”

“He has food,” said Apis. “We don’t. Nothing meaty, anyway. Unless you wanted oats and flour for dinner?”

I cast another glance at the nobleman. He hadn’t moved. “Your name, sir,” I said, eventually.

“Of course, my apologies.” He pushed himself up, fluid, and gave a perfect formal bow. “Herminius, Councilman of the Fifteenth District, although as a pilgrim of Teuthida I have no title at the moment. By all means, continue to call me by my first name. May I have yours?”

“Apis. This is Elysia, and you’ve already met Duran,” said Apis. “If you don’t mind..” He coughed. “Well, we could assist in preparing the food. If you’d like.”

It was coming close to true darkness now. The autumn was even closer now, here in the north. The edge of cold was on the air. I tied the mule up to the closest tree I could find, loosened the cart, and put on another jacket below my cloak. I could see Apis and Duran clustered around the fire. Hopefully they were using some salt on the meat.

When I got back to the fire, there were three new skewers of rabbit crackling merrily over the fire. Herminius was leaning in, eyes sparkling. “So, a family trip for a pilgrimage, eh? Good for you!”

“We aren’t,” started Duran, but I interrupted him.

“We’re just here to see the Temple,” I said. “I’m sorry to hear it isn’t going well.”

We might learn more if they thought we were other pilgrims. Thankfully, Duran had experience with my whims. He just leaned in and turned the rabbit.

There was a crunching of twigs and leaves in the darkness. I tensed, reaching for the wooden spoon in my pocket. A woman’s face emerged. She held the same sword that had been at my throat, but in her hands were other tools- traps, ropes, and another rabbit.

“Oh,” she said. “You aren’t done yet.”

When Herminius had referred to Young Katla, I had pictured a teenager of some sort. This woman was definitely in her twenties, at least. She slumped into the dirt, pushed her hood back and began unfastening her boots. “No luck,” she said. “I’ve been around the outside edge three more times. No sign of anyone.”

“Well, thank you. Rabbit?”

“Not yet!” Duran reached out and turned the rabbit again. “It’s still cooking.”

Katla stretched, then pulled off her jacket. She folded it delicately, slowly- like there was something in the pockets she wanted to protect. Then she held out her hands to the fire. She didn’t acknowledge me. I glanced again at the sword and moved a little further away from the fire.

“I doubt it,” she said. “But thanks for cooking the rabbit.”

They made a strange pair. Herminius kept a smile on his face as he took the rabbit, exclaiming over how delicious it was and saying he had big plans for tomorrow. Katla barely ate. She stared into the fire, fingers tapping out an uneven rhythm.

I took a bite of the rabbit myself and decided she was clearly not in her right mind. “Duran, good job.”

He perked up. “Really?”

“Excellent salt balance. I can tell you’ve been practicing.”

“I tried to remember the ratios,” he said. “And I added some-”

“Rosemary, is it? I didn’t realize we had any.”

“I saw some by the side of the road yesterday.” He grinned at me. “You really mean it?”

I nodded, then took another bite. At least something was going right. Next to me, Apis had already finished his rabbit and was throwing the bones into the fire, watching them crackle.

“I suppose you’ll be leaving, then,” said Herminius. “Pity. This is delicious.”

“Actually,” I said. “We might as well wait a little longer. We did come to see the temple.” I took another bite of the rabbit.

Herminius leaned forward in the fire, raising his brows in excitement. “I knew it was a good sign when you showed up,” he said. “We could use a few people with real skills around here!”

Katla made a small noise of irritation. I avoided eye contact and kept chewing my rabbit.

“You travelled from far away, Katla?” Apis broke the silence after a long few minutes.

Katla broke a leg off of a rabbit with a vicious crack. “From the north. Separated from my group. Can’t go home without them.”

She bit down so violently I thought she might break the bone. “I see,” said Apis. “Many condolences.”

“No need for condolences,” she said. “Not yet. Have to get their bones. For burial.”

That was all she said, even as the fire died down. I leaned back and stared out at the rest of the temple grounds. There were two or three more little fires. I couldn’t make out the details in the darkness, even with a fat moon overhead. There were maybe a dozen people here. How many were trapped inside?

When it became clear no mead was emerging, I forced myself to stand. Herminius had already crawled underneath a down blanket. I didn’t see any form of blanket or tent set up for Katla. She didn’t seem worried about it.

We made camp a little outside of the main groups. With no tent, we did our best with the wagon and a few blankets. It did fine, except for the constant buzzing of the bees; we’d set them up a decent distance away, but Apis still wanted to hear them. For safety.

“I swear,” I muttered, eyes closed, “No one is going to attack the bees.”

“Remember my landlady?”

“Not an attack,” I said. “She got them arrested.”

“Unjustly!”

I shivered. It had seemed like a good idea to come north, until I was here. Stuck under a wagon, jammed in next to Apis and Duran, lying on the cold ground. I was much too old for this. “Next time I try to do the heroic thing, warn me off.”

Duran snored. Apis tried to turn over, but it dragged the blanket off of the two of us. I reached over and dragged it back. He muttered an apology, half-asleep.

I stared up at the bottom of the wagon. In the darkness, I could just barely make out the difference in the wood grain. The wind wailed through the mountain-tops. The waterfall churned. Apis tossed and turned again. I closed my eyes.

We would find Durandus the first soon enough. Then this would all be over.