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Penard'un walked the battlements of the keep, she was uneasy, the
patrols were late. If only she could be out there with them, but with the
knight commander ill, she was left in charge of more than just her
rangers. Then the priest Vegtam had not appeared at the morning prayer,
rather it was his young assistant Gyffe who blessed the rising of the sun.
It was being said that Vegtam had bad dreams, perhaps that is what
had caused her to have nightmares while she rested. Sometime near evening
she had found herself asleep, sitting at the knight commanders desk, a
tally of spent stores unread beneath her arms. She had strange dreams of
fire, blood and death, but now could not remember what they had been
about, just nameless feelings of pain and fear. She'd awoken with a start
and now as the evening sun began to set, Penard'un walked the battlements
to clear her head.
Mywnoawr, the commander of the keep, groaned and sweated on his
bed. Gyffe stood nearby and prayed to Pelor to cure the brave and faithful
knight, but to no avail. His illness had come on so sudden, this morning
the knight was found lying on the floor of his bedroom, burning hot and
delirious with fever. He'd called, demanded, then pleaded for his armor to
be brought forth, but the knight was too weak to even raise his hand let
alone a sword or bear the weight of mail.
The priest felt a disturbance that he could not place. His
superior Vegtam, a pious humble servant of the faith, would not respond
to their servants pounding at his door, his small bedchamber was locked
and bolted from within.
All day Vegtam had kept himself locked away, but at the evening
service he'd appeared. The priest looked drawn and pale, his clothes
disordered and damp with sweat. He did not wear his vestments but just an
old cloak thrown over his sleeping robes. Gyffe had held the service,
Vegtam made no move to take them in hand himself.
As the last rays of the sun set and caught the crystal dome of the
high tower that looked down across the keep, Gyffe blessed all within
its wall and in the lands beyond, while Pelor closed his eye and slept.
Vegtam moaned and wept, Gyffe ushered out the worshipers as quick
as he could then went to the weeping priest.
"Vegtam, what is wrong?" Gyffe asked. "Are you sick?" his thoughts
flashed to Mywnoawr lying sick and weak in his bed.
"Sick. Sick?" Vegtam held his head between his hands. "Nooo, no,
I'm not sick." The priest looked up, his eyes were red vained and burned
with an unhealthy glow. "You must go, go. GO!" he yelled.
Gyffe stepped back. Shocked by the vehemence in his patrons voice.
"Vegtam, you aren't well."
Vegtam laughed, he almost cackled with an unsavory glee. "Go back
to your dreaming. You don't need to be here yet. Go!" He pushed Gyffe
back then grabbed him by the arm and forced him from the chapel room.
"Vegtam, stop, stop, if you're ill..." Gyffe tried to hold the
old priest back, but though younger, bigger and he had thought, stronger,
he could not keep from being pushed through the door and out into the
hall. "Vegtam!" he called one last time, but the door slammed shut.
Inside he heard the bolts thrown home and the bar dropped into place
across the door.
* * *
(To Be Continued)