These meetings are always the same.
You say thank you. They ask questions: if anything will be done to them, if more soldiers will come, if the king knows about this. You answer the same as always: no, no, yes. Then you leave. And they give you an "offering for the king."
I mounted my horse and rode away from that house.
The bag of coins hung from my waist. I didn't weigh it. I never weighed them.
I rejoined the brigade.
The day was beautiful. The sun shone over the fields. White clouds floated slowly.
The soldiers began to laugh during our gallop. Someone told a joke. Another replied. The laughter spread. Hooves struck the earth to the rhythm of the chuckles.
But I saw the young cleric.
Too thoughtful. Downcast. The white cloak hung from his shoulders like a weight.
I slowed my pace to ride beside him. My horse snorted. His didn't even flinch.
"Hey," I said. "Why so serious? Did that painting scare you?"
He shook his head. His eyes weren't looking at the road. They were looking at something farther away.
"No. I just saw that those people had fallen."
"What do you mean?"
"That painting was charged."
"With magic?"
"No, it's more than that," he said, and his voice grew heavier. "It turns out that in my lessons, they took us to the ruins left by demons when they were still here. Decades ago. Those ruins had an energy. A weight in the air. A feeling on the skin."
He paused. Swallowed.
"That painting had that same energy."
"I see."
I didn't ask any more questions.
We galloped in silence for a stretch. The road stretched straight between the fields. The soldiers' laughter faded behind us.
The cleric spoke again.
"And where will we go now?"
I searched in my bag. Took out the map. Unfolded it over my horse's neck.
"I want to know that too."
"We can't go to Elionor. It's too dangerous for just us to go now."
I spread the map in front of him.
"Look," I said, trying to get the young man to see it properly.
I pointed to a spot on the road.
"Here is where she was first seen at a border checkpoint. The guards on duty said that while they were inspecting the luggage, 'Lady Edyth' stepped out of her carriage and flew away with her coachman."
"Flew?"
"Flew. They caught the coachman. They were taking him to Aldric. But she appeared to rescue him."
The cleric frowned.
"And then?"
"Then they caught the subject again."
A laugh escaped me.
"Exactly."
I put the map down.
"Nothing makes sense," Elector said. "They didn't even see her clearly. It was always night."
"And haven't you searched nearby?"
"Ah, yes. But if I searched for paranormal things, we'd be talking all day about reports. Especially in isolated places."
He began counting on his fingers.
"Dead people who return. Goblins. Shadows. Witches. A woman who vomited a serpent. Three-armed children who preach the end of the world."
He lowered his hand.
"And you know what? Even with every intention of believing them, I would find nothing."
I sighed.
"I'm starting to doubt if this Edyth really exists or if she's just a myth."
The cleric smiled. A small smile, to himself.
"The priest at my temple always had a problem with a crow that stole the grain," he said. "No matter where they put the sacks, they were always broken."
I looked at him. Raised an eyebrow.
"What does that have to do with this?"
"Just giving an idea."
He adjusted his cloak. Straightened his back.
"You just need to give it a decoy. Demons always crave power. If she was near the capital, she must already be there, ready to dismantle whatever she touches."
I looked at the horizon. The fields stretched green as far as the eye could see. Beyond, the hills. Beyond, the capital.
Slowly, I straightened my posture.
I put the map away.
"It's very tempting to abandon this trip," I said. "You'd better be right. Because they won't lend me another brigade for this."
The cleric didn't answer.
We galloped in silence.
Behind us, the soldiers kept laughing. Ahead, the road disappeared among the trees.
The sun was beginning to set.