Oathbreaker: A Dark Fantasy Web Serial
Arc 7: Chapter 12: The Good Doctor

Arc 7: Chapter 12: The Good Doctor

We found ourselves in a part of the town near the northern wall, a neighborhood for craftsmen, laborers, and local artisans. We navigated narrow streets lined in steeple-roofed houses and narrow shops. Even here, I noted how neat the settlement was. Straight streets, good homes, handsome courtyards with fountains and public gardens. The section we stood in had more claustrophobic alleys, but even then I didn’t see signs of rampant poverty or hardship.

Part of me had expected something else. My imagination conjured sick beggars lurking in the alleys, dour inquisitors standing guard like shrouded wraiths at every corner, the distant wails of tortured sinners echoing up from the sewer grates.

I hadn’t forgotten my time beneath Rose Malin. It still played prominently in my nightmares. Sometimes, I thought I’d left part of myself down in that stinking darkness, lost through the endless days of questions while I waited to die, or worse.

But Tol wasn’t like that, at least on the surface. I considered that Vicar’s story about the small city’s dark history had something to do with my disjointed expectations. Only a few generations ago, this had been the epicenter of horror and pestilence. Now, it looked like a fine enough place to live in comfort and quiet, ignoring all the traders and soldiers passing through for the resettlement of Kingsmeet.

There were signs of decay, of age, a weathering that told me this had once been a very fine place long ago and now it was… not bad, but faded. An old masterwork in cold oils, set against a backdrop of quiet white.

“Here.” Vicar, still wrapped inside Geoffrey the Pilgrim, stopped in front of a three story townhouse, one of the largest on the street. “She lived here before. If she’s still in town, then this is where we’ll find the good doctor.”

“Doctor? You didn’t tell me she’s a physik.” It put me in mind of Olliard of Kell. He’d seemed a good sort, and part of me believed he was at heart, but we’d ended up at odds in the end. Perhaps because he was a good sort.

“She is a polymath. You will be hard pressed to find a subject this woman doesn’t have some degree of expertise in.” Vicar started up the stairs. One of the boards was loose and creaked under his boot. “Let me do the talking.”

I waited at the bottom of the steps while Vicar rapped on the door. I felt a shiver that wasn’t just frozen air on my neck. It’s watching again. Just as I’d been warned, the Scadudemon had kept following me after that night, adding itself to the usual train of ghosts who never seemed far behind.

I would take Vicar’s advice and ignore it, though I couldn’t help looking around. An old woman stood on her front porch a few houses down, watching grandchildren play in the snow. She looked in our direction. I gave her a friendly wave, remembering Vicar’s words about Priory spies.

They could be anyone. Even a kindly old grandmother.

After about a minute, the door cracked open. In the gap stood a tall, willowy woman in woolen robes not dissimilar from what the crowfriar wore in his disguise, though hers were much finer, darker, and more professional looking. She looked to be about thirty-five, perhaps a bit younger. She had high cheekbones, large brown eyes, a small, slightly recessed chin, and ashy brown hair done in a practical bun to reveal arched eyebrows and protruding ears. Her thin nose had been broken before and badly set, putting a notable crook in it.

She did not smile as she glanced between us. When she noted my armaments, her already thin lips pressed even tighter. “Can I help you?”

Vicar leaned on his staff, smiling broadly as though greeting a beloved relative after a long absence. “Delphine! It’s so good to see you again. Let an old man in out of the cold, hm?”

His cheerfully narrowed eyes widened slightly and he lowered his voice. “I do hope the tea won’t have silver dust in it this time.”

The woman’s brow crinkled, then her eyes widened. “Renuart?”

“Geoffrey, at the moment. We need to talk.”

I saw her hesitate, her nostrils flaring in a moment of indecision. Her eyes went to me. “Who is he?”

Vicar didn’t even look at me. “An ally, for now. You will need to invite him in. I trust mine is still good?”

“I was tempted to rescind it,” she said acidly. “But yes. And yes, your companion can come in so long as he brings no trouble and leaves when I ask him to.” She glanced at me as she said this, and I felt a pressure I’d barely noticed recede. The home had been warded.

I followed them in. The first floor of the house was neat and tidy, almost sterile. It made me think the owner didn’t entertain guests often, and probably didn’t care to. Even with the stove burning it felt cool inside, but I couldn’t tell if that was the winter air we’d let in or an impression from my magic. Either way, it did not feel like a real home.

The doctor closed the door and moved to a small table set near the stove. There was a fireplace, but it didn’t look like it’d been lit often, like the woman only cared to keep the place just warm enough to be livable. She did not sit, wheeling on Vicar.

“How much does he know?” Her eyes flicked to me and then back to the disguised crowfriar.

“Almost everything,” Vicar admitted. “We’ve… been acquainted for some time. He knows who I am and what I am.”

That did not seem to please her. “You were an idiot to come back here. After you and Master Hexer vanished, there was a tremendous uproar. They interrogated me for two days straight, thinking I’d aided you somehow! I thought they were going to start putting the question to me. Oraise was here. I think if he hadn’t spoken to me, they’d have pulled out the hooks and brands.”

Vicar stilled mid pace. “Is he still here?”

Delphine shook her head. “He left just yesterday, heading back to Baille Os to attend to the Grand Prior. There’s talk that the Cardinal is holding a vote over what’s happening with the Seydii. You’ve heard of that?”

“We have.” Vicar’s lined face became troubled. I heard a scratching sound and glanced at the mantle. A small, white creature crouched there, one I didn’t recognize at first glance. It blinked at me with beady red eyes and chittered. An odd looking thing, like some kind of furry worm with a long neck, tiny legs, and a small flat head.

Delphine wasn’t done. “They sent out the Penitents, Renuart. Emptied the barracks, even after I told them they weren’t ready, that it was too soon. They sent them after you.” Her voice took on a breathy hush. “Even Chamael went after you.”

Vicar held up placating hands. “I know. For what it’s worth, I’m glad to see you are not in bonds. We need your help.”

“I still don’t even know what happened!” Delphine moved to the other side of the table, pressing her palms down on its polished surface. “All the questions, and no one ever explained to me what was going on.” She scoffed. “Of course, no one trusts me, I knew that well enough. First that damned wizard vanished, right in the middle of that breakthrough with the tablets we found beneath Logrost, and then I started hearing that you’d betrayed us too.”

Vicar smiled softly. “Us? I thought you were insistent that you were not part of us.”

Delphine let out an annoyed sigh and adjusted a few strings of loose brown hair. “This is not the time for pedantry, Renuart, I just don’t understand — leave him be!”

Her sharp voice startled me. I’d taken a step towards the animal perched on the mantle. It was cute. Soft looking fur, a narrow face, twitching snout. I’d started reaching a gloved hand out to try and pet it, but the doctor’s bark made me freeze.

The albino creature shot off, incredibly fast, scurrying down the fireplace and blurring between my legs. It crawled up Delphine’s robes and found its way to her shoulder, where it curled there like a scarf. It had a long, fluffy tail that wrapped around her neck. It chittered softly. Again I saw the doctor’s brow furrow.

“What is he?” I asked, genuinely curious. “I’ve never seen a chimera like him.”

“He wasn’t grown in an alchemist’s vat.” Delphine stared at me with hard eyes. “He’s a weasel. He also bites.”

She turned to Vicar again. “Why did you come back?”

The crowfriar held up a hand. “First, is anyone else here? Are you certain this place is secure?”

“No, and probably but I can’t be certain. The Priory is much better at surveillance than I gave them credit for. Your presence here will be marked. There will be questions.”

Vicar nodded. “Then we must move quickly. I need access to Lias’s laboratory.”

Delphine laughed. “You must be joking! They’ve torn it apart by now, there won’t be anything to find.”

Vicar gave me a pointed look, and I nodded. “Unless the priorguard are hiring other Magi, they won’t have found everything. Lias always dug himself a Burrow in his hideaways. I can find it if it’s fresh enough, but if we don’t move quick it might collapse. He never makes them to last.” That’d always been his way, little dens he could abandon without leaving a trace.

“We need to know what Hexer planned,” Vicar said. “Where he might have gone. We need to find him before the Priory does, or someone else.” He thought for a moment before asking, “Have the Penitents returned?”

Delphine frowned. The weasel on her shoulder chittered again and snuffled at her ear, and she began to pet it idly. “No. but it’s been a few days since I was last in the Undercroft. I’ve brought most of my essentials here.” Her expression soured. “The priorguard took some of my material. That bastard Presider promised they wouldn’t.”

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“I imagine he is under suspicion as well,” Vicar said. “He and I have both suffered under the shadow of doubt since we allowed Horace to die. Many have not forgotten.”

I chose to say nothing. Delphine seemed to remember my presence and wheeled on me. “What are you?”

“Excuse me?”

“I had to invite you past my wards, which are keyed for most supernatural creatures. Ormur doesn’t like you, which tells me you’re probably either a crowfriar like Renuart or an elf. And you’re wearing a glamour. Not a very good one, either.”

Her look was disdainful, as though I’d offended her. “I’m guessing faerie. You have that sense about you. Even when they try to make themselves look drab, elves have a… quality. You wear that dusty armor and frayed cloak like a lord wears jewels.”

“I’m human,” I said dryly.

“Really?” She lifted her eyebrows. “Then I would like you to leave.”

I opened my mouth for another retort, but instead I found my vision blur for a moment and realized I’d spun towards the door. I took one involuntary step forward before catching myself. I had to grit my teeth and physically restrain my own limbs from continuing.

What in all the hells…

“Definitely elf,” the doctor muttered with dry satisfaction. “Though I’ve never seen one resist the compulsion like that.”

I focused my effort on not taking another step towards the door. It was a strange and intensely uncomfortable sensation, very close to terror or panic. I wanted to leave, felt like some enormous beast snuffled at the back of my neck and I needed to flee it or die.

“Make this stop,” I snarled. My heart began to pound. Cold sweat beaded on my skin.

“Or what?” Delphine quirked an eyebrow.

“Delphine…” Vicar sighed. “He isn’t an elf. Not entirely, anyway.”

The doctor frowned. “A changeling? The ward should work the same.”

“Not that either.”

“I’m fucking human!” I snapped. I lurched forward another step, had to catch myself on the mantle. I snatched my hand back as pain flared. It’d burned me.

Like the house itself is trying to spit me out. I understood what was happening. It was old magic, peasant magic, cruder but in some ways just as strong as the laws that protect churches and the halls of lords. While elf-kind had been humanity’s ally in our long wars against forces more profane, they are not always benign and there were tricks to protecting oneself just like with the dead. Leaving spoiled milk outside one’s door, a wind chime of moonsilver by the window, clanging an anvil at midnight with a cudgel of cold iron… all old traditions that keep the redcaps and the child thief’s away, forestall the star maids and fey lords who might pursue one’s spouse in their immortal ardor.

Many of those ancient folk magics had been supplemented over the centuries by the aegis of faith and the power of amber-robed preosts. The God-Queen had laid powerful blessings over Her chosen people, and between that and the Archon’s laws, mortals found themselves less prone to becoming the playthings of elves. It instead became tradition to invite them in, let them take the shape of hearth hounds and protective spirits. I’d rarely dealt with this kind of barrier, because my invitation into any place had always been implicit as a Knight of the Alder Table.

Your companion can come in, so long as he brings no trouble and leaves when I ask him to. That simple statement had been a spell. Not the kind a Magi might wield, but potent all the same.

“You’re a witch,” I growled at her.

Delphine sniffed. “I’ve been called worse. Are you Briar? You carry the scent of blood with you, and these magics tend to be trickier with them.”

Another step. I was nearly at the door. I almost tried using my own magic to break the geas, but realized instinctively that it wouldn’t work. It was my own magic compelling me to leave the house. Elven magic. This worked on me for the same reason Chamael’s commands had, for the same reason I was so sensitive to hidden powers and the residue of supernatural entities.

The damned woman had taken the golden power Tuvon had alloyed to my soul, my Paladin’s Oath, and turned that very force against me. She hadn’t used any sort of Art to do it, just a little folklore.

I’d resisted Chamael. I didn’t understand how, but felt like it had something to do with whatever happened to my powers when I’d fought Yith. It involved the dead, and they were just as susceptible to thresholds as the Sidhe. It meant that — at least inside this house — she had more strength over me than even the angel.

“Delphine!” Vicar’s voice hardened. “Enough.”

Delphine shifted and scowled. “Fine. You can stay until I change my mind.”

It felt like an iron anchor dragging me towards the door suddenly slackened. It wasn’t gone — I could still feel that pressure of conditional welcome wrapped around me — but I almost gasped as it eased.

I caught my breath and glared at her. “What was that for?”

“I don’t like games,” she stated flatly. “And until I know who and what you are I will not trust you. I will not trust this.” She made a slicing motion between me and the crowfriar. “I owe Renuart, but I have my own neck to look out for. You want my help? Convince me why I should.”

I considered for a long moment, caught between anger and interest. I had to admit, this strange woman had impressed me. It didn’t mean I didn’t find her rude. Neither did I trust her with my story.

“I’m human,” I told her without breaking eye contact. “Just… modified. I’m interested in finding Lias Hexer. Vicar and I have the same goal. All you need to do is get me into his study without the entire Inquisition coming down on our heads. Do that, and we’ll go our own ways.”

“And after you find him?” She insisted.

I hesitated, realizing I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Vicar answered for me. “We need to find Lias before anyone else does, Delphine. Please.”

Delphine glanced at the man and folded her arms over her sternum. “Dis Myrddin was there when I was questioned. He believed you helped Lias escape. What makes you think I won’t turn you all over even if we manage to find him?”

Vicar’s smile was thin. “Because you want to know what the wizard knows, why he left, and you know without him, without me, the Priory will force you to become a full member to protect its secrets. Or just kill you.”

Delphine’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a bastard, Renuart.”

“I am just as much at risk as you.” The devil lowered his gray eyes, falling quiet a moment. “I inducted the wizard into many of our secrets. I believed having him as an ally was the best course, and I take the blame for this. The other friars certainly think so. Failure is not tolerated by our masters, and I have failed three times now since leading the mission to this land. If they capture me, then I will face judgement.”

He shook himself out of his reverie. “We’ve had a long journey, and I think we all have some preparations to make. Can you shelter us for a day or three?”

Delphine kept glancing at me, obviously dissatisfied, but turned reluctant eyes to Vicar. “I’m being watched. You two will have to stay here, now. You’ve definitely been seen coming in, and it’ll look suspicious if you vanish right after. I’ll have to come up with some story. I’m also going to need to bully my way back into the Undercroft, and then find a way to get you two in there, which will definitely get us all killed… and why am I letting you convince me to go through with this?”

She scowled, and Vicar plastered on his paternal smile. “Because you know it is likely for a worthy cause.”

The woman snorted. “With you? A vile one, no doubt.”

“Then you will consider it?”

The doctor sniffed. “I will consider not turning you over to the priorguard. For now, you both stink of the road. Get yourselves cleaned up.”

She hesitated before adding, “I suppose I’ll make tea.”

The doctor situated us in rooms on the second level. She also gave terse orders not to touch the third level or the last room on the second. I noted that her little pet had vanished.

When she’d gone downstairs, I turned to Vicar. “You’re sure she won’t turn us in? She really doesn’t seem to like me.” For that matter, she didn’t seem to like Vicar much either.

“She does not like soldiers. Don’t take it too personally.” He frowned deeply, the stark lines of his gaunt faces tightening. “It would be foolish for her to betray us. She agreed to join our operation in order to further her own research. The Grand Prior tolerates her because he sees the value in what she contributes to his plans, but he would much prefer to have her full cooperation. With both me and Hexer now considered apostate, he will force that choice sooner rather than later.”

“Even if that cooperation comes from coercion,” I said in understanding. “The Priory’s new leader sounds like just as much of a schemer as Horace.”

“He is. Horace was a cold, calculating man fully willing to wield all power at his disposal. To him, the Inquisition was a tool. Diana Hallow was obsessed with her own rhetoric, so much so it cost her support. Eirik is something altogether more dangerous.”

It was the first time I’d heard the new Grand Prior’s name. “And what’s that?”

Vicar turned to face me. “A believer. He is presently the most staunch supporter of the Cardinal in Baille Os. If they are successful in reclaiming Kingsmeet, then it will be a tremendous step in earning support for the war they really want to fight.”

Markham’s war. Or was it the Church’s? The Emperor was the Sword of the Faith, technically a servant of the clergy. Perhaps I should have considered that more carefully. Rosanna had been the one with the rivalry against Horace Laudner, and she was not always politically aligned with her husband. Had it set Markham’s plans back when I’d killed the old Grand Prior?

That wasn’t a line of thought I enjoyed. Much as I’d tried to keep up, to train my mind as much as my body, I could only do so much in a year. The intrigues of kings and emperors wouldn’t be untangled in an hour.

I took the time to strip out of my armor, clean it, and by the time I’d finished the doctor was ready with tea and a meal. We all sat downstairs and ate in awkward silence, each wrapped in their own thoughts. Delphine kept giving me furtive looks. I’d put my armor back on after cleaning it, and she’d noticed when we’d come down and hadn’t hid her disapproval.

Her attention grew tiresome. “What?” I asked her. “Spit it out if you have something to say.”

Her brow furrowed, a nervous tic judging by the permanent crease there. “You still haven’t told me your name.”

“You’re right.” I took another bite of stew.

The crease deepened. “You are a guest in my house, one I am harboring against some very dangerous people. The least you can do is offer your name.”

“It’s dangerous for the Fey Folk to offer their names to mortals, especially when they are guests.”

She wheeled on Vicar. “Is he always this insufferable?”

The man, who’d taken off his pilgrim’s robe and looked very much like a thinner, older Renuart Kross just then, cast me a bemused look. “He is stubborn to a fault, and is prone to thinking himself witty when he is in fact being childish.”

“And you smell like someone passed bad gas all the time. We all have our little quirks.”

Delphine narrowed her eyes at me and laced her fingers together. She wore several rings, all of them common quality and simple. One looked woven from grass.

“You’re not an elf. I see that now, but humans don’t usually wear glamour so easily. What are you hiding under there?”

“Nothing much,” I said, already feeling tired of this line of questioning. “I mostly just made my hair darker.” And my eyes, but I wouldn’t mention that.

I heard a scratching under the table, then Ormur the Weasel scampered up onto its surface and started sniffing at our food. When he got close to me, he bared his teeth and spat angrily before rushing to his mistress.

“Why did you name your weasel after a dragon?” I asked her. It had taken me some time to recognize the name.

“Because he eats like one, and protects me very fiercely.” She started petting the albino animal. “Also, doesn’t he look like a little wurm?” Her voice seemed to warm while talking about her pet.

Not a pet. Her familiar. I sensed an unnatural intelligence about the animal that reminded me of Morgause.

I had questions of my own. Why did she work with the Priory even though they were obviously a danger to her? What was it she studied, and how had she gained a rapport with a Crowfriar of Orkael? She and Vicar didn’t seem to like each other, but there was obviously something there. I’d considered something romantic at first, but the more I watched them the more I dismissed the idea. I sensed no warmth. Just a professional, albeit grudging, respect.

But there wasn’t time to get everyone’s story. My eyes were drawn to the window. Dusk encroached.

We had to wait for Delphine to manufacture a way into Lias’s laboratory that wouldn’t get us caught by the Priory. It could take days if we intended to do this carefully. I didn’t want to wait days, knowing it would give Lias time to get further away and his pursuers the chance to catch him, but getting ourselves caught wouldn’t help anything.

In the meantime, I had another task to attend. Murmuring thanks for the meal, I began to stand and grab my cloak.

“Where are you going?” Vicar asked.

“To find a church. I’m masquerading as a crusader, remember? It would look strange if I didn’t offer some evening prayers to God and Her angels.”