Chapter 02 #2
Throwing another careful glance over her shoulder, Semras confirmed the men were still deep in their discussion. Then, she veiled her vision from the visible world and peered into the Unseen Arras.
Her sight filled with the threads of magic surrounding her, still as vivid as the day her mind opened up to them.
Thousands and thousands of luminous, dancing filaments turned the world into a vivid tapestry.
From each blade of grass to the rays of sunlight penetrating the tree canopy above her head, the warp and weft threads shaped everything around her.
They slowly danced to the rhythm of the past and the future, a few seconds in and out for her limited perception.
Semras was no seeress, but some gifted witches could see far beyond in time and perceive the various shapes the world might or might not take.
But it wasn’t a glimpse through time she needed right now; it was the blue-white threads of air and sound.
Raising her hands to seize a few of them, the witch carefully rolled them up around each of her fingers, then started weaving.
Her lips mouthed a silent melody, a tempo she knew by heart and used by habit to rhythm her weaving.
Semras had woven magic since she barely comprehended what it was, and she had long since mastered its art.
She needed no tool and no incantation—only the threads, her fingers, her vision, and her skills in weaving the weft around the warp.
From them, she remade the world to her will.
Before long, the air between Semras and the men shrank, pulling voices into her ear that once were too far to be heard. With practiced ease, she kept dragging the sounds to her with discreet motions of her fingers as her vision returned to normal.
Her weave caught the end of the knight’s words. “… happen again, my lord. They will return to guard the House of Tribunals as soon as we are back in Castereina.”
“For their own sake, I hope this will be the first and last time they disobey my orders.” Inquisitor Velten sighed. “There are far too many eyes watching me already. Inexperienced fledglings bumbling their way through more trouble than they are worth hold no appeal to me.”
A brief pause, then the knight spoke again. “You walked into the witch’s lair alone, my lord. She locked you in, and they panicked. With just cause, I would say.”
“There was no cause, Sir Ulrech, and you should have stopped them.” The inquisitor’s voice was sharp, accusing. “Were you expecting me to thank you for at least not joining in?”
“Velten, I panicked too. You should have told me what you had planned to do.”
Semras strained her ears. So the inquisitor had kept his plans secret even from his knight?
His answer came after a far too long pause and in a voice much softer than before. “I see … Considering how our previous case ended, I will let this go. For this time only.”
“I know you can protect yourself, Velten. I just … What happened last time with … I do not want to see it happen again.”
Inquisitor Velten exhaled loudly. “… Neither do I.” With a forcefully cheerful tone, he continued, “I am glad you believe me capable, var Hesser, unlike whoever thought I needed this boy knight over there. Who asked him to join my retinue? I did not request his presence.”
Semras spotted the mentioned young man standing close to the horses. Just like Sir Ulrech, he was wearing a studded black brigandine and a dark burgundy cloak adorned with a silver Elumenra star.
Another Venator knight, then. Her heart twisted with unease. The inquisitor travelling with even just one was far too many for her taste.
“The young Sir Themas de Maldoza, you mean?” Sir Ulrech asked.
“If that is his name.”
Busy verifying a roan gelding’s saddle straps, the golden-haired, tanned man remained completely oblivious to the attention he was now receiving.
Ulrech gave a noncommittal grunt. “He told me the cardinal sent him along with the sword-bearers, my lord. His Eminence was worried you would lack protection while travelling here, now that … now that only a single Venator knight remains in your retinue.”
The inquisitor scoffed. “Wonderful! What does he take me for, a child in need of supervision? More than likely, he is his spy. Send him back to the Confraternity at the earliest opportunity.”
“As you wish, Inquisitor. Although … you should give him a chance. More eyes on that witch will not be too many, if you ask me. I saw how she looked at you.”
A surge of panic made her glance wide-eyed at them. Had they noticed her?
Ulrech caught her gaze, and Semras stiffened, cursing her carelessness under her breath.
“How? Like she wants to silence me for good?” Inquisitor Velten laughed. “Do not pretend you never give me the same look, var Hesser.”
The knight didn’t answer. His gaze burned into her, raising the hairs on her nape.
That man was hostile to her presence and not afraid to let her know it.
Inquisitor Velten followed his gaze. Mirth fell off his face. “I will deal with the witch, Sir Ulrech. You deal with the fledgling knight and keep him out of trouble. And out of my sight.” With a wave of his hand, he dismissed his knight.
Chewing her lip, Semras let go of her weave. The wefts around her fingers unravelled back into their previous shape, and the air returned to normal.
Walking away toward the horses, Sir Ulrech kept his eyes on her for as long as he could. His intense, mistrusting scowl sent a shudder of dread through her, but she managed to keep her head held high until he disappeared into the chaotic mass of men and horses.
With feigned confidence, as if her bones hadn’t just been rattled to their core, Semras looked back at the inquisitor.
He was staring at her, head cocked to the side and eyes narrowed—as if she were some odd and interesting creature. Somehow, his gaze unnerved her more than the imposing knight’s had.
Semras straightened her shoulders, discreetly smoothed down her dress, and pushed a straying strand of hair off her right cheek. Then she approached the inquisitor, back straight and head unbowed.
Inquisitor Velten slowly looked her up and down. And then again. “I was unaware I had made such an impression on you,” he said, arching his eyebrow.
Face flushed with confusion, Semras dropped the two bags at her feet. Was the shawl too much? “What?”
“You must have packed your entire house in these bags. Is that your way of confessing you wish to stay with me?” He smirked. “I was not entertaining the idea before, but now that you have changed out of your ugly smock …” He grabbed a pan of her shawl and brought it to his face, examining it.
“Hilarious. Is this what passes for humour in the city-states nowadays?”
Inquisitor Velten studied the gems woven in the black wool. “Are these enchanted? With what magic?”
His instincts were sharp. “Warming charms,” she answered cagily. “That’s all. Why?” With a twist of her shoulder, Semras freed the piece of wool from his hand.
He let it go. “Iolite stones … Good vessels for holding Bleak spells, wouldn’t you say?”
“I wouldn’t know about that, Inquisitor Velten, considering I do not walk the Bleak Path.”
“That remains to be seen.” He kept smiling, as if his words carried no hint of threat.
Semras answered his obvious provocation with a careful silence. Grabbing her bags again, she tried to ignore their heavy weight. Maybe she had overprepared. “Where should I put these?”
“Nowhere before you lighten them. I told you we have to travel fast. We are racing against decay, and this much,” he gestured at her bags, “will slow down the horses. I am sure you would rather examine the corpse before it falls apart, so …”
Huffing, Semras readjusted her grip on the bags.
“Fine, I’ll remove a few things. But if I’m missing anything later, I expect you will buy it for me without question.
And without looking at the price,” she said.
Then she stared at her bags and sighed deeply.
“I’ll need a moment to go through these again. ”
Semras turned and walked back to her hut, a scowl of annoyance drawing on her face as soon as the inquisitor couldn’t see it.
“Did you find our conversation interesting?”
His voice froze her in place.
“If you have questions,” he continued, “you can ask them directly rather than listen in.”
Forcing a breath out, Semras kept her back turned to the inquisitor, fearing her eyes would betray her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Her voice felt flat even to her own ears. He couldn’t possibly have known she had eavesdropped. How could he have known? She’d been far enough and discreet. He must have been bluffing, which meant she just needed to bluff better than him.
A perfume of musk and wood essence suddenly filled her nose.
“You are lying, witch,” his voice whispered in her ear.
Startling, Semras spun to look straight at Inquisitor Velten.
His face hovered close, far too close, and she could see in detail the sharp angle of his cheeks, the line of his strong jawline, and those damn piercing eyes.
A single black strand fell onto his forehead, an outlier to his otherwise perfectly coiffed hair.
She hadn’t heard him approach her at all. Had he not spoken, she would have been none the wiser.
A shiver ran down her spine. He could have attacked and taken her by surprise in such close quarters; she’d have been defenceless.
“… When could I have spied on you?” Semras asked, swallowing back her nervousness. “I was way too far to listen in. You saw me check my garden, didn’t you?”
His smile grew colder. “Ah … I had a hunch, but now I know for sure. You are lying. You did spy on me.”
How did he know?
“I don’t have time for your tall tales, Inquisitor. I have bags to remake, so if you’ll excuse me …” Semras turned away.