The Heavenly Host

Jenn shook her head in amazement. “But everyone knows that orcs always side with the forces of darkness and armies of evil, and when not doing that, they are brigands, thieves and unsavory mercenaries.”

Maelen nodded slightly in consideration. “There are many that do tend to fall into those occupations and allegiances, but certainly not all of them. Not all humans are wizards, for example.”

Gastropé looked puzzled. “Most humans are not wizards.”

“And most orcs aren’t brigands or thieves. Orcs are generally a tribal people, often nomadic in nature. And yes, they do have a rather martial nature and don’t often get along with humans, or elves, but they are just people.”

Jenn was giving him a skeptical look. “Yes, but history books said that in most conflicts, they’ve sided with the forces of darkness.”

“Says the wizard who has spent the last month working hand in hand in close proximity with multiple non-bound demons?” Maelen asked.

Jenn clamped her mouth shut for a moment, then took another sip of sparkling wine. Gastropé coughed and took a sip himself.

∼

“You smell like a cheap, beer-soaked barn!” Danyel fanned his nostrils as he helped Hilda get out of her over-clothes.

“If it only it had been that pleasant a venue.” Hilda grimaced, smelling the armpit of her jacket. “I will clearly need you to run me a quick bath before I go check on Trisfelt.”

She had been shocked to find the wards back up and once again unable to materialize inside Freehold. Fortunately, the guards were letting in anyone who was able to enter. She had asked the gate guards what was up and had been told that there had been more demon issues at the palace. Fortunately, while there had been a lot of property damage, no one had died or been seriously hurt.

Her first instinct had been to go directly to the palace, but then she realized she would never be able to explain her stench. Of course, she could have used a cleansing ritual, but she had already planned on a bath, and they’d said no one had been hurt. Thus, the best course of action was a hot bath. She shook her head in dismay at the lack of time. Fortunately, Murgatroy was sufficiently far east of Freehold that she had picked up an extra hour or two of fierdlight.

“So where were you all day?” Danyel asked. “Trisfelt stopped by to check on you after the dust-up. I had to tell him that you had been called to the countryside to assist a client with numerous ill servants.”

“Well, that works out extremely well then. It will more than explain my ignorance of the day’s events and give me a good excuse for questions.” Hilda chuckled. “You are turning out to have a calling for subterfuge!”

“What should I do with these?” He held up her jacket and gestured to the rest of the clothes she was wearing.

“Put them somewhere where they won’t offend our noses. I need to wear them again tomorrow.” Hilda said.

“Are you going to do a cleaning ritual on them?” Danyel asked.

That gave Hilda pause. “Hmm, for authenticity, I had not planned to, but my principal target there knows who I am.” She shook her head. “I think I will wait on a decision until after tonight’s meeting. I may have gotten enough information today that Stevos can wrap things up.”

“Stevos?” Danyel asked.

Hilda shook her head. “I’m sorry — you asked where I was. I was in Murgatroy.” Danyel gave her a blank look and shrug, indicating he had no idea where that was. “It is south and east of here eight or nine hundred leagues.”

Danyel raised his eyebrows. “Quite a jaunt,” he said dubiously.

Hilda smiled. “Not if you take a shortcut through Tierhallon. Anyway, I was with Saint Stevos Delastro of Murgandy.”

Danyel slowly shook his head. “Never heard of him.”

Hilda grinned. “I just met him last night. He is young as saints go. I am thinking about seventy or so. It is rather impertinent to ask a saint you have just met about their untimely and always tragic demise. “

“Sensitive subject then?” Danyel asked.

“Yes, but not just for the saint.” Hilda shook her head; Danyel looked puzzled.

“Let’s just say that if I told you the story that led to the canonization of Saint Tatiana, you would never drink another Bloody Tatiana again!” Hilda chuckled grimly.

Danyel grimaced. “I’ll get your bath ready.” He laid the jacket on the back of a wooden chair and moved into the bathing room.

Hilda followed. “So anyway, we were in Murgatroy, which is a backwater down in the Kingdom of Murgandy. Not sure it’s technically kingdom, or what it is.” She shook her head. “Anyway, we were interviewing a half-orc priest about incidents he had reported yesterday.”

Danyel paused in preparing the bath. “A half-orc priest? Is that even possible?”

Hilda smiled and made a shrugging gesture, raising her hands. “I know; who knew? However, he is very sweet, quite nice and does an admirable job. The powers that be have been quite impressed with his service.”

“Those are not words I have ever heard associated with an orc, or a half-orc.” Danyel shook his head.