Saving Solace

CHAPTER 11

One morning a few days later, Gerard hummed as he strolled along the bridge-walks, nodding and greeting people. He got a wan smile from the bemused baker, Brynn Ragulf, whose mind was undoubtedly far from Solace, sailing the high seas and living a life of adventure. "Rising," Ragulf said distractedly in answer to the stock question citizens always asked about how the bread business was doing, despite the fact that Gerard hadn't asked. "Always rising." He wandered off, already back in his reverie, oblivious to the flour that dusted his face and clothes.

Gerard's reception from Kedrick Tos, the gangly goldsmith and councilman who fancied himself a ladies' man, was more effusive. "Sheriff, just the man I wanted to see! I have an idea for helping to ensure the safety of Solace from attack. A ditch and palisade constructed around the entire town." He waved his hands expansively to indicate the scale of the project.

Gerard smiled. "And who do you think is going to attack?"

"Oh, I don't know. Brigands, I suppose. Outlaws. Villains of every stripe. We should be prepared in any event, don't you think?" Gerard tried to envision digging a trench around the whole of Solace and erecting a palisade alongside it. Such a structure wouldn't even protect the town against imaginative kender, supposing the project could ever be completed in the first place-a proposition Gerard highly doubted. Even the checkpoints on the major roads into town were drawing criticism from a number of merchants and private citizens alike. Anything more ambitious than that would never find sufficient support from the rest of the council. "I'll take the matter under consideration, Councilman," he said thoughtfully, knowing Tos would forget all about the idea now that he had passed it along to Gerard. Tos was enthusiastic that way, and absentminded afterward. Tangletoe Snakeweed passed beneath the bridgewalk, crying out the news of the day-or what passed for news in his spiel. "For all those who were wondering, it turns out Lady Drebble will be all right," Tangletoe announced grandly. "Healer Argyle Hulsey says Lady Drebble's features merely froze for a while from the unaccustomed effort of arranging them into a smile. Argyle Hulsey says it was the worst case of rictus she's ever seen outside of a three-day-old corpse, but Lady Drebble's face should be back to its habitual expression within a few days."

Early though it was, the town was already bustling.

Horses, carts, and wagons passed along the streets below, raising clouds of dust, now that the days were hot and dry, that rose even to Gerard's perch among the trees. By day the cicadas droned; by night the crickets chirped. And always there was the turmoil of a town undergoing unprecedented growth, with all the opportunities and problems that afforded, which meant that the town sheriff played a vital role.

Gerard drank in the morning air. There was real satisfaction in his job, a kind of contentment that had eluded him all those years he had served as a knight Who would have thought, he mused, that he would find a source of such pride here in Solace, where he had been forced to endure such humiliation during the war?

He reached the home of Palin and Usha and knocked. The door opened almost immediately, revealing Palin in his usual early-morning garb of embroidered robe and slippers. Gerard tried to stop in every day to talk with the mayor. After Palin heard of Gerard's misadventures on his farm rounds, he made a point of inviting the sheriff to daily breakfast, assuring him that his eating habits were his own. So Gerard had began showing up as a regular guest at their morning table.

The Majeres were willing to serve Gerard plain, unsweetened porridge without cinnamon or cream, if that was his desire. But he was gradually tempted by the blueberry muffins and jam or honey, with stacks of buttermilk pancakes swimming in syrup, which Palin and Usha often enjoyed.

"Come on in," Palin said, showing Gerard to his customary chair. "What's the word out in the world this fine morning?"

Gerard sprawled in the chair Palin had offered him, feeling right at home. "The word is that Lady Drebble's face froze when she attempted to smile at Goodwife Gottlief. At least, that's what Tangletoe Snakeweed is claiming this morning on his rounds."

Palin laughed as he took his own chair. "For once, I can believe the kender got his facts right. Lady Drebble's face would freeze if she tried to smile, especially if the recipient was to he Goodwife Gottlief. But you know, I really think you're the one who is to blame."

"Me?" Gerard sat up straight. "What did I do?"

"You encouraged Lady Drebble to take a more conciliatory approach to Goodwife Gottlief, don't you remember? You suggested to Lady Drebble that it would drive her neighbor crazy trying to figure out what was up."

"How'd you hear about that?" Gerard mumbled.

"Oh, a good mayor has ears."

"Vercleese told you!"

"Whatever my source of information, I think you should own up to some level of responsibility in the matter."

"All right, what of it? What do you want me to do? Should I apologize to Lady Drebble?"

"Apologize? Why, I should say not! I rather think your actions should come before the town council for a commendation."

"Hmph!" Gerard snorted, realizing Palin had been making light fun of him. "If appearing before the council means having to attend another one of the council's interminable meetings, I'd rather face Lady Drebble's frozen face any time, thank you very much."

"Suit yourself," Palin said with a grin. Then he glanced up as his wife entered. "Usha, I'm sorry. I got busy talking business with Gerard and forgot to help you finish fixing breakfast."

"I heard what kind of business you two were discussing," Usha said dryly as she carried a tray laden with food and dishes in from the kitchen. "But that's all I right; I saved the cleanup for you."

"Ah." Palin tried unsuccessfully to keep his face from falling. "Well, that's only fair, I expect." He helped her transfer items from the tray to the table.

For a while, there was no further discussion-business or otherwise-as the three set upon the omelets and biscuits with honey Usha had prepared. At last, Gerard sighed contentedly and pushed back from the table. He shook his head when Usha offered him the basket with what remained of the biscuits. "What can you tell me about Cardjaf Duhar? " he asked, keeping his tone light.

Palin looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

"I only ask because I see Kaleen practically every day at the temple grounds, or every night at the inn," Gerard explained hastily. Then, feeling he had said more than he intended, he felt his face flush. "That is… look, I just can't imagine a free spirit like her born to a man as seemingly worldly and business-oriented as her father, that's all. I'm curious."

Usha smiled and stood. "I'll leave you two to discuss business," she said. She patted Palin affectionately on the arm. "And I'll leave the dishes to you."

"Kaleen follows her own path," Palin said after Usha had gone. "And it's to her father's credit that he stays out of her way."

He went on to explain how Duhar had recently retired to Solace from Palanthas, where he had extensive business interests, because he felt Solace was a more suitable environment in which to raise his only child, Kaleen. Duhar remained more familiar with life in the large city, however, and retained a cosmopolitan view of the world.

"Although Duhar is never anything less than respectful toward Solace's traditional leaders, he seems to regard the opinions of some of us as quaint and out of step with Solace's future," Palin explained. "He favors virtually unlimited growth and development, wanting to welcome as many new arrivals to the town as possible. He argues that it is selfish of Solace's long-term inhabitants to resist making the town as welcoming as possible to new people in a troubled world."

It was primarily through Duhar's efforts, Palin added, that Solace had become the home to the new Temple of Mishakal, for Duhar was one of the principal financial backers of the building project. "Yet he doesn't strike me as an especially religious man," Palin continued. "Rather, I think he sees the temple as one more civic establishment, helping to forge the ties of a stronger community."

"And what about Kaleen's mother?" Gerard asked.

"Ah, Gatrice Duhar. She's an elegant, self-possessed woman from Palanthas high society who has never really felt at home in Solace. I suspect that she resents Cardjafs decision to move to so backward a place, a decision in which she had little part-as she has on occasion publicly reminded him. Nevertheless, she attempts to make the most of her situation by educating the women of Solace in the cultural refinements she feels appropriate for one of her station."

"I see."

"Yes," Palin concluded tartly.

Gerard, sensing that Palin was going to say no more on that topic, tactfully switched gears. "I gather you and Cardjaf Duhar don't always see eye to eye."

"Oh, we don't, but who does? We're always extremely respectful of one another. It never degenerates into anything personal." Palin sighed. "No, we don't always see eye to eye. As I say, Duhar favors unlimited growth, a view he has convinced certain others on the council and in the town to adopt. I fear that Solace is in danger of losing the very quality that makes it special."

Gerard saw Palin's eyes blaze with real pride as he spoke of Solace, and he knew the man had found his true calling as mayor. It was clear Palin loved the town and relished being responsible for helping to build and oversee its future.

Caramon would have been proud, Gerard reflected sadly, wishing the elder Majere had lived long enough to see his son in this surprising role.

"How is the murder investigation going?" Palin asked when the conversation seemed in danger of stalling.

"Progress is slow, I have to admit," said Gerard, feeling guilty. "But I've been mulling things over, and I think it might be a good idea to pay a visit to this bandit Samuval. You know, get the measure of the man, look him in the eye, and ask him just what he knows about the sheriff's death. I understand Sheriff Joyner actually used to visit Samuval occasionally."

Palin nodded, then pursed his lips. "I suppose it might be a good idea to talk to Samuval personally. But be careful," he warned. "Joyner had a kind of personal truce with the ruffian. Vercleese can guide you part of the way to that fortress of his, but after that you'll be on your own. Samuval would take two men coming as a threat, but one man, carrying a white flag… well, you'll probably be safe enough. Samuval is a villain, but he's not a totally unprincipled scoundrel, and he probably wouldn't attack you without some sort of reason. And he'll know all about you already because he has plenty of spies and confederates who pass through town and will have already passed along information about Solace's new sheriff. I'm sure he'll be anxious to meet you, if only to gauge how much of a threat you might pose to him in the future. Maybe you can put a scare into him. It's best that he keeps his distance from Solace."

Gerard found this explanation less than reassuring, especially since he and Samuval had met briefly during the war and he regarded him as a scoundrel without honor. Fortunately, Samuval wouldn't remember him. The sheriff stood. "Well, I'd best get going. But first, let me help you clean those up." Gerard indicated the dirty dishes with a sweep of his hand.

Palin winced. "I don't think Usha would forgive me if I made you help with dishes. You're our guest, and besides, it's my job. But here, before you leave, there's something I want you to see." Palin led the way to the back of the house and ushered Gerard into a room that turned out to be Usha's studio. She was busy working on a painting, a portrait of Odila, dressed in priestly raiment and standing in front of the temple as it would look when finished.

"Why, that's beautiful!" Gerard said. Then, stepping closer, he took a better look. Within the architectural details and the shadows cast by the building lurked vague, distorted images suggestive of grinning skulls and bloody shrouds, dripping daggers and gallows' ropes. "Oh!"

Usha jabbed her finger vexedly at the painting. "Don't worry. I don't know what all of this means yet." she explained. "I don't know what it has to do with Odila or a temple devoted to healing. I'm afraid maybe it foretells some unhappy event or disruption that is to befall during the dedication ceremony, but I won't be sure until the painting settles and is done."

Gerard was puzzled, knowing little of magic and less of magical painting of the sort Usha specialized in. The Knights of Solamnia had an almost hidebound objection to magic and even though Gerard was no longer a knight, he still shared this attitude. Magic made him uncomfortable, suspicious. "I don't understand," he said warily, intending no discourtesy. "How did those strange images get there if you yourself didn't paint them?"

"This is one of my gifts from the gods that I can't really explain myself," Usha said, gazing unhappily at her work. "Sometimes, when I'm painting a scene or portrait, my mind just goes kind of blank. When I come to my senses again, it's almost as if the painting has painted itself. Sometimes, I won't even notice until the next morning. Then I don't know whether the auguries appeared from my own hand or whether they were etched there magically overnight, in my absence. Often, it takes a while to see what is being revealed, although this example is less subtle, more legible than most. And sometimes the auguries vanish by the time the work is finished. Are they warnings to be heeded, or are they sent to cause the very things they show?"

"What do you mean?" Gerard said. He gestured vaguely at the painting. Palin, his hands clasped behind his back, stood there listening, without saying anything.

Usha was quiet for a while. At last, she began to speak. "Once, I was asked to paint a portrait of a wealthy businessman in Solanthus," she said softly. "He was an influential man, very powerful, and like other men of power, he boasted many enemies.

"All went well with the portrait at first, and the businessman was very pleased with my work. Then a strange thing began to happen. First, the eyes in my painting became glazed, as in death. I would restore their look of vitality each day, putting in the points of reflected light that characterize vital eyes, only to have them turn cloudy again each night. After that, I began to find the mouth open each morning as if in a silent scream. Finally, a bloody line started etching itself across his throat, opening further each day until the bloody line became a gaping wound.

"With great unease, I showed my client these omens and told him they might be warnings of what is to come, unless he took steps to prevent things. He concluded that his enemies were out to kill him, and immediately set out for Palanthas until such time as it seemed safe to return." Usha paused, as if unwilling to continue. "On the way, he was set upon by robbers," she added at last, speaking so softly Gerard had to strain to hear. "He was killed. His throat was cut." She looked Gerard full in the face. "So you see, I must have inadvertently caused his death by showing him what the picture revealed. In a way, I contributed to his death. And now I don't know whether to warn Odila of these portents, or whether it would be better for her if I keep silent."

"But she has to be alerted!" Gerard said vehemently. "We can't just sit by and let whatever it is befall-not if there's a chance we could stop it."

"Gerard, weren't you listening to what I told you? I helped cause that businessman's death!"

But Gerard wasn't listening. He stumbled back from the painting, his eyes wide with horror. "I had a dream a few nights ago," he said in a whisper. "I was standing in the new temple. The statue of Mishakal was holding a body, a corpse, and trying to tell me something, but I couldn't understand what Mishakal was saying. Nor could I tell whose body it was, for it was covered in a bloody sheet."

Usha gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth.

"What?" Gerard said. "What is it?"

But it was Palin who answered. "I had the same dream. And I, too, couldn't tell whose the body was."

"It might have been Odila's!" Gerard declared, turning toward the door.

"Wait," Usha called. "Don't do anything that might cause this fate to happen."

"He must do what he thinks is right, dear," said Palin.

"I must go to Odila," Gerard said, hurrying from the room, "and at least tell her."

Without further ado, he made for the stairway that would take him to ground level, the bridge-walk trembling beneath his frantic steps, and there he met up with a panting guardsman rushing in his direction. "At the temple!" the guardsman gasped, bent forward with his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. "A terrible accident… Must tell the mayor."

"Was anyone injured?" Gerard asked, already feeling a tight foreboding.

"At least one dead." The guardsman straightened.

"Who?" Gerard demanded to know. "Who is dead?" But the guardsman merely shook his head and resumed his sprint in the direction of Palin's house.

Gerard raced toward the temple, fearing the worst.