Alright, I think I'm beyond the point where I can use whining about work and stuff giving me writer's block.
I've revamped and re-edited the earlier chapters (including several rather embarrassing mistakes...)
Soooooooooo, let's try this again...
Rain was pattering down from the sky in short spurts, as if the clouds were trying to decide whether or not to let the storm loose. She could feel droplets of it in her hair, on her torn clothing, spattering on her skin through the holes. Normally she loved walking around outside when it rained but now she hurt too much…inside and out….
The girl forced back the memories rushing into her head. She couldn't think. She wouldn't think about it. She could let it out when she got home.
She clung to that thought. Home. She had to get home.
She pushed away from the tree she'd been leaning against and stumbled forward, trying to orient herself. There, she knew that crooked tree there by the side of the road, knew it marked her as almost on the outskirts of her father's farm. Hope leapt into her heart, the first positive emotion to fill her since she'd heard footsteps behind her…
She tore her thoughts away from that direction and forced herself to stumble on, tears running down her face, every muscle in her body aching with fatigue and exertion.
When she finally managed to claw her way to the top of the hill and the roof of her home came into sight, she started to scream for her father.
One week later…
People generally tended to walk in grim silence at this level of the town's main hall. It was no surprise the loud arguing of the priests above drew attentions from the guards and the few prisoners enclosed in the line of cells.
Mywiewen Cystiacilo made an attempt to keep her voice lower as she strode after her companion, the words issuing through clenched teeth. "Holo, you have two seconds to turn yourself around and walk out of this cursed place before I toss you over my shoulder and drag you out."
The gnome cast an amused glance back at her, not slowing down at all. "Really, Wie, talking with your cheeks all puffed up like that and your lips curled hardly presents a fitting image for a Knight of the Merciful Sword."
She would have throttled him except his words had a certain ring of truth that made her school her face into a proper expression. Plus bending to reach that low would have been even more undignified. "Don't call me Wie."
He didn't bother to answer that order anymore, continuing on as if he hadn't heard her. "Nor is it dignified for a Knight of the Merciful Sword to prattle on like a harridan every single time this faithful servant of Ilmater tries to do his sworn duty."
"There is no requirement for you to go into every single blasted prison we come across." The paladin argued.
"There is no better place to find a suffering soul." Holo replied quietly, nodding to the guards as they entered lower level where the holding cells were located. "Facing ones own mortality often leads one to see life and the past in an entirely different light."
"Leading to a guilt induced sense of repentance that doesn't do the people they harmed any good or bring any real sense of justice, does it?" Mywiewen shot back.
Holo sighed, refusing to be drawn further into this latest incarnation of their oldest running argument. He knew it pained Mywiewen to see him place blessings on people she deemed unworthy of the honor. The way they viewed things was simply too different for them to reach some sort of middle ground on the issue. He saw the paladin sigh and resign herself, her tall form going still and tense, ready to spring into action should any unruly prisoner try and harm her charge.
Holo moved down the line of cells, offering the occupants the blessing of Ilmater and the chance to relieve themselves of any inner torment. In the front cells he was met with sullen indifference or outright mockery, but those were the men who weren't facing execution. Mywiewen gritted her teeth and had to remind herself that Holo had set himself to this kind of ridicule when he'd dedicated himself to Ilmater. That didn't change the fact it enraged her to hear such words and abuse laid on the gentle gnome, whom she'd seen gladly take on pain far beyond what his small frame should have had to endure to save people who would never appreciate what he'd done for them. He spent weeks upon weeks tending to the poor, agonized over the sick and dying because he couldn't take their pain from them. It taken her a while to see past their differing views and come to accept the fact he was truly a good soul and worthy not only of respect but admiration, but that only made it more painful to watch him subject himself to this.
It didn't get easier when they made it to the cells further back where the prisoners awaiting execution were held. Here was where Holo found his so called tormented. Almost all of them met the offering for blessing with surprise, and a few with tearful gratitude or pleas for him to help them. Mywiewen listened silently as Holo quietly assured a man who'd spent years in a temple cheating honest worshippers out of money they gave for blessings that there was hope for him in the next world if he was truly repentant for his crimes.
'Not likely," the paladin thought contemptuously. She felt no pity for the man and seriously doubted there was any real repentance in his heart, only fear as he faced his death and retribution for his crimes in the life after. Still, Holo didn't make any assurances or promises to speak for the wretches, and she admitted reluctantly that there really was no harm in giving them false hopes. It often made for a quieter execution.
Finally the two came to a cell that was guarded by two heavily armed knights. Actual knights, Holo noted with a bit of surprise, not guardsmen trained within the barony. And when he came closer he was even more surprised to see they'd hired a wizard to help guard the door as well. The three rose and bowed respectfully to cleric and paladin as they approached. Holo stopped a few feet from them, which allowed him to look up at them without putting too much of a crick in his neck. "Greetings, good knights, I am Holo of the Church of the Crying God, and it is my honor to introduce the Lady Mywiewen Cystacilo, Knight of the Merciful Sword. You seem to be quite on edge about this prisoner here…"
"We've good reason to be," the wizard answered in clipped tones. She was a tall, coldly beautiful woman dressed in robes that marked her as a mage of no small accomplishment.
"I've been watching you with the other prisoners, my lord, and while your idea is admirable I'm telling you not to bother with this one," one of the knights said, glancing at the door behind him with cold contempt. "He'll be a pleasure to wipe off this existence; I wish they'd done it already."
"What did he do?" Mywiewen spoke up curiously, noting the hostility of all three, even the wizard.
"Five days ago, little Amarie Tefton, who's the daughter of one of the more prominent farmers, came stumbling out of the woods around suppertime, screaming for help, looking like she'd been trampled by a stampede. One of the healers examined her. She'd been raped and beaten badly when she was out picking fruit for her mother." The knight's teeth were clenched by the time he finished. "She's fourteen years old."
Holo's face went grim and Mywiewen found her hand had strayed to the hilt of her sword, her grey eyes flashing dangerously. "And this is the man responsible?" She spoke in a voice that had gone quiet and deadly.
"We found him tracking through the woods about two days after it happened, heading South, directly away from the scene of the crime. Moira helped bring him back," the other knight said, nodding to the wizard.
Holo's attention sharpened, his initial outrage dampened by a sudden gut instinct not all was right here. "You know for sure…"
Mywiewen interrupted, her voice filled with barely suppressed fury. "Why hasn't he been executed yet?" She snarled, outraged, her hand outright gripping the hilt of her sword now.
"Lord Sven wants a confession and he won't admit to it," the first knight said, his own face mirroring her anger. "He just glares out with those devil eyes and says he didn't do it no matter how hard anyone questions him."
Holo winced, only imagining what sort of methods of 'questioning' was used on the man. "But you do, of course, have proof he was in fact the one who did it?" He pressed, trying not to sound judgmental. Everyone glared at him but the tiny man refused to back down, meeting every glare with calm, steady eyes. Something deep within him had clicked oddly and he was suddenly quite certain that he was meant to be in this place, for whatever reason. "Forgive me, but what evidence do you have beyond the fact he was traveling in the woods relatively near the scene of the crime?"
The gnome's calm, reasonable tone got through to Mywiewen at least and she flushed a bit, ashamed that she'd let her anger rule her enough she'd started to judge Holo of all people. The knight wasn't so easily swayed and seemed to take the words as an insult. "I've seen that evidence and have eyes in my head, my lord."
"Meaning?" Holo looked confused.
The wizard intervened, an odd smile on her face. "I believe the confusion can be cleared up quite easily, gentlemen." She gestured to the small barred door at the bottom of the cell used to slide food into, the only opening in the door. "Take a look at the prisoner, sir, and you will see why there is no doubt this particular prisoner was responsible."
Holo blinked and stepped forward, kneeling in front of the little door.
"We will protect you, lord Holo, but be careful; he's broken through the chains in a fit of temper more than once."
Both Holo and Mywiewen looked at him, startled, and he smiled grimly in response. Holo knelt down and opened the little door, wincing at the smell of the unwashed, dank cell. He caught a whiff of open wounds and the start of infection as he peered through the darkness, his small frame allowing him to bend down and look through it with relative ease. He frowned and squinted when he finally caught a glimpse of a figure covered in chains, drawn back against the wall. A gasp came from him as the figure lifted his head and looked at him, the thin shaft of moonlight from the tiny window at the top of the cell highlighting his features….
Mywiewen came up behind him, looking at the knight curiously. "What is it about this prisoner that's so special?"
The knight leaned forward, his voice low, holding it in for the drama of the moment.
…the silver light gleaming off the black horns that curved from his head…
"He's a demon."
Mywiewen's eyes went wide and she opened her mouth to speak but Holo's voice, shocked and trembling, drew everyone's attention down to him, noting his face had gone white with horror and disbelief. "Valen?"