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Firebrand - Chapter 343

Published at 12th of April 2024 06:30:04 AM


Chapter 343: Brotherly Business

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Chapter 343: Brotherly Business

Brotherly Business

Martel spent Solday morning wondering whether he was making a mistake. Given his previous involvement with the Sisters of the Sun, walking into their compound might be considered the height of naivety. Yet the Friar had promised him free leave again, and he had made good on that promise last time. Besides, you needed bait for a trap; the letter had contained nothing of the sort. Just a vague appeal to Martel's decency, so to say. Which seemed very unlike one of the Nine Lords and made the acolyte inclined to trust the old monk had no ill intentions.

Which could be the very reason, of course, and perhaps the Friar was masterfully manipulating Martel.The inaugural upload of this chapter took place via N0v3l-B1n.

He would find out soon enough. Ignoring the subtle voice in the back of his mind telling him to stay home, Martel finished his chores and his lunch before setting out towards the temple district.

***

Unlike his first visit, the gate to the convent stood closed. The building suddenly seemed foreboding, as if telling him to stay away. Perhaps that was the intention with the walls and sturdy-looking doors; the nuns inside probably preferred to avoid visitors.

Yet Martel had been invited, and with no other obvious action to take, he banged his fist against the gate.

It took a little while before a small hatch was slid open, allowing someone from the inside to spy on the street. "What do you want?"

"I'm Martel of the Lyceum." He almost regretted saying it; these religious people did not seem fond of magic. But he had to introduce himself to gain entry, after all, and they could probably tell he was a wizard by his red robes. "I've been invited." He left out the name of the Friar, not sure if saying it out loud would cause trouble.

"Wait here." The hatch was closed again.

Not like Martel had much choice; he doubted even Eleanor or Maximilian could have jumped over those walls, no matter how strong their empowering magic.

A smaller entry built into the large gate opened. "Come inside."

Hoping his instincts had not led him astray, Martel walked past the threshold to enter the convent.

***

"Yes, to the heart of the matter. A holy relic was stolen from a shrine in the city. But to understand this, I must first ask – you are aware of the Pact of the Nine Lords, yes?"

Martel nodded.

"That oath has helped stem the violence that so easily overflows in this city. Of course, part of it is practical. Step out of line, the other Lords will destroy you. But still, an oath must be sworn by something holy. Or better yet, upon something holy." The Friar gave Martel a knowing look.

"The stolen relic – it's the one you used when you swore the Pact?"

He nodded. "Now, its disappearance does not invalidate the oath. But as you should know, the harbour has a new master. At summer solstice, we must renew the oath to include him. Another relic could be used, perhaps, but I fear these events are connected. Stealing the one we used last might be a pretext for someone to question the oath itself, delay the proceedings, and in the end, overturn the Pact."

"So, you want it found. But why me? You must have plenty of resources." Hard to imagine a man like the Friar could not call upon someone better.

"Yes, but as said, you may be uniquely qualified. This investigation requires magical talent, for reasons you'll discover, and any mage I might call upon is well known by the others. If the trail leads to the other Nine Lords, they would be seen as my agent, violating the Pact. You, however, are already known to have crossed the districts. You can appear as a neutral party."

Martel looked at the old man. He could refuse. In the end, he was not responsible for keeping the peace between these criminals. But he suddenly realised how the Friar's friendship might be useful to him. "I'll do it if you'll do a favour for me in turn."

"Which is?"

"In the catacombs underneath the city, by the sewers, I believe a maleficar hides. He is protected by a jinni, a spirit of the desert. Far too powerful for me to face. Can you get the inquisitors to scour the tombs and find him? They should arrive in force and send their very best." As much as Martel loathed depending on those zealots, their golden weapons might stand a chance against the jinni.

The Friar stared at him for a while. "Not at all what I expected. We are familiar with the catacombs, of course. They are a perennial thorn in the side of the Inquisition, unable to permanently quell the necromantic energies that plague the place. Very well. I have no qualms granting such a favour."

"In that case, I'll do what I can. But I can't guarantee success. I've never tried to investigate a crime before."

"Of course." The monk took out a scrap of parchment. "You will not be alone. I took the liberty of writing this down when I heard you had arrived for our meeting, anticipating a positive outcome. There's a time and place for you to meet someone who will assist you." He handed it over.

Martel accepted it. "Who is it? How will I know them?"

The Friar smiled. "He'll recognise you."




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