Chapter Two In the Hands of the Gatekeepers
When Sintel got back to the inn, she found that it was still a bit early for dinner, though the smells were starting to be very interesting. She decided that, if she was going to be hanging out with Lady Marska, she'd better make an effort to be presentable.
She took a hot bath at the place next door, where they also washed her clothes and cleaned her boots. Feeling much better, she ate dinner with others at the table, then stayed to talk and join in the fun. She even tried the local beer, though it was too bitter for her tastes.
Finally the Goddess rose, her full silvery light making the streets into a maze of shadow and light. She looked at Her through the window, thinking of Braan, and how he was making a life for himself there now. The regret of not being fast enough to go with him struck her full force.
Her good mood gone, Sintel went to her room, kicking off her boots and head hitting the pillow, falling asleep almost instantly.
Some time later she was awakened by an insistent knock at the door. "Miss? Are you there? I need to speak with you."
Groggily she sat up. "Uh? Mrs. Bekkan? Just a moment." She pulled on her boots and went to the door.
The moment she opened it, the innkeeper was shoved out of the way, and hands grabbed for her. She pulled back, and they missed. "HEY! What's going-"
Three large men dressed in leather with swords at their sides and the Dragon Tree Emblem strode into her room. She lunged for her staff, but was grabbed by the upper arm and pulled away from it. A child of the streets in Ishtar, Sintel knew how to fight, even if she couldn't reach her knife at the moment.
She twisted in his hand, jumping and planting her boot in his face. Hard. He grunted and let go, falling back. When she landed, the other two grabbed her and held on.
"That's enough of that," said one, "You're coming with us."
She struggled hard, but to no avail. "Let go!" she yelled.
Neither man answered, but frog-marched her out the door, the man she had hit following and holding his nose, trying to stop the blood. He reached over and took her knife.
As they started down the steps, Sintel managed to get a glimpse back. Mrs. Bekkan was still on the floor, holding her face where she had cut it, being shoved into a wall brace. Her face held a look of sorrow and surprise. She hadn't expected this to happen, obviously.
Outside, the Goddess had passed the zenith, and by her silver light they took Sintel to the Gatekeeper's Lodge. The Watchtower overhead was a dark bulk, blocking out the stars.
They took her down a hall, up a short flight of stairs, and down another hall to an unmarked door. The injured man knocked, then opened it. The two holding Sintel practically dragged her in.
An older man with a short salt-and-pepper beard sat behind a desk littered with papers and several lit candles. Two other men stood to one side.
"Here she is, sir," said the first man, dabbing at his nose again.
The man behind the desk smiled slightly. "Feisty, I see."
"Yes sir," was the reply, with a glare in her direction.
"What do you want with me?"
One of the others stepped forward, bringing out a Dragon Crystal that was bigger than Lady Marska's. As he approached, the white glow grew brighter, and took on a bluish tinge.
The confused girl stared at it.
"Well?" asked the leader.
"She has the Gift," was the reply.
"What?" said Sintel, "Will somebody tell me-"
"Secure her; we need to leave in the morning," said the leader.
"But..." said Sintel, when a foul-smelling cloth was slapped against her face, and a moment later, she knew no more.
S:TDC/S:TDC/S:TDC
Sintel woke up slowly, discovering she was very thirsty, and had a headache. She raised up and looked around, bleary eyed.
She was obviously in another place. It was a small room, and she was lying on the lower unit of a bunk bed. Sunlight was streaming through a window, making her eyes ache. A couple of chairs with a table, and a chamber pot was all there was.
No, not quite, she discovered as she sat up. There was a metal band around her right wrist, connected to a bolt in the wall by a light steel chain. It was plenty long enough to reach any place in the room, but not outside it.
Just then the door opened and Lady Marska came in. She went directly to Sintel, who glared at her. She ignored the girl's expression and held out her hands, which contained a glass of water and a blue-green leaf the size of her palm.
"Chew the leaf and swallow; it will help your headache," said Marska.
Sintel was practical by nature, and she quickly realized that these Gatekeepers already had her, and she could do nothing. At least, not yet. She took the leaf and did as instructed as Marska pulled out a chair and sat down.
The leaf was slightly bitter, but she washed it down and felt better almost immediately.
"Thank you," she said, and the glare returned. "Now, tell me why I shouldn't hurt you."
Marska winced, but sat still. "I don't blame you for being angry. I am sorry, but your wrath is misplaced. I would never have done what Skonn did, taking you from your room in the middle of the night. Will you listen, before you strike?"
Sintel hesitated a moment. "Yes, I will listen. You'd best hope I like what you say," she said.
Marska relaxed. "That's fair."
"Why was I taken?" she asked.
"You have the Gift," Marska answered simply. "That is rare and special. Those whom we find are brought in to be tested and added to the ranks of the Gatekeepers."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Sintel said, shaking her head. She was fiddling with the band on her wrist, but could not do anything to it.
Do you know any magic?"
Sintel paused, considered her answer. The idea of being forcibly recruited into anything did not sit well with her. Suddenly the room swayed slightly, and the angle of sunlight changed, catching her attention. "Where are we?"
"We are aboard the Watchtower. We left Zharing this morning."
Sintel jumped up and went to the window. It opened in, and a warm breeze hit her face. The ship was moving slowly, and she knew they were much higher than the top of the Ziggurat was. From the sun's position, she could tell they were going north. She could hear voices around outside, and an odd noise like "Whooompf!" once in a while. She closed the window and sat down.
"To answer your question, no. I don't know anything about it," said Sintel.
"I see," nodded Marska, "You will learn everything in training. In your-"
She was interrupted by the door suddenly opening and a rather large man with a thick black beard and hair stomped in. Both Marska and Sintel stood up.
"Skonn," nodded Marska.
"So," said the man, "You're the one, eh? Not much to look at, are you?"
Sintel just glared at him, and he responded by going over to her and tilting her face up to his. "Marska, are you telling her what she needs to know?" She jerked her head away from his hand, and he stepped back a pace.
"Yes, I am, but I just started," was the reply.
"Good. Be thorough," he said, and stomped out, closing the door behind him.
"I am sorry, Sintel, please forgive me," said Marska, "One of his men must have heard us talking back in town, and he sent some of the Guardians to get you."
"It wasn't necessary to do it that way," was the answer, "I wanted to come to your lodge."
Marska lowered her head in shame. "Politics. He gets the credit for finding someone with the Gift, instead of me."
"Oh, I get it," said Sintel. She gazed at the woman for a long minute. "Okay, I believe you." She sat down on the bed.
"Thank you," said Marska, and sat in her chair. "Sintel, I happen to like you, and don't want you mad at me."
"I still am, a bit, but I'll get over it," she said. "So, since you're supposed to be explaining things, how about it?"
Marska gathered her thoughts, and began.
"We Gatekeepers are a religious order, dedicated to being the "Gate", the "go-between", between the people and our gods, the dragons."
"You worship dragons?" asked Sintel. She had never paid the remnants of the orders left in Ishtar much attention, and knew very little about gods or their worshippers.
"Yes. And those with the Gift are sent by the dragons to aid us in their ultimate goal, to unite all people under their rule." Marska got a far away expression while she said that. "You will be educated in our ways, and in using the power you have."
"And I have nothing to say about it."
Marska looked confused. "You have the Gift. Why would you choose any other path?"
Sintel started to snap something about wanting to choose her own fate, but something stopped her. What, really, did she have to lose? She had been hunting Scales for some time now, with no luck. But these Gatekeepers were connected to the dragons. If she went along with what they wanted of her, it might be the lead she needed. And if not, she could always escape. Besides, if she changed her mind too quickly, it would look suspicious.
She looked at her new friend. "This is new to me. Let me think about it while you explain."
"That's fair enough," said Marska, and the conversation began in earnest.