The Red Cloak (p. 2)
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Nobody seemed happier to be back on the campaign trail than Cappel Rode. General Roma had kept the entire Morsine army encamped in Carseli until he received enlightening intelligence reports about the Guipesans, at which time the snows struck. Winters on the Peninsula were not unduly cold, but they were wet enough to make the roads impassable for large numbers of men. Sea travel was not an option, as the majority of the Morsine armada had been destroyed in the battle of Signe just before the attack on Carseli. The navy under construction in the shipyards at the south point of the Peninsula would not be fmished for another year at the least.
Zelmorzi had been happy to spend the winter at a city with the amenities of Carseli. He began to think about perhaps opening a tavern when the war was won. Since the Guipesans torched his farmland, his barn, and his home two years ago for the sin of being on "their" side of the River, he had nothing to return to.
Cappel Rode, on the other hand, did not have such a relaxing winter. He took great pains to avoid certain sites, as if bad memories were attached to them: the Assemblyhouse, the Lower Bridge, a certain street where many Assemblymen had had their townhouses, and a few other sites with no common bond that Zelmorzi could see. The only joys he had were in entering Guipesan taverns incognito and besting the patrons at cards, and the hunt. Since Rode had been indifferent to the hunt in the years Zelmorzi had known him, the Sergeant suspected that his Captain simply wanted an excuse to get out of the city. This became all the stranger when Zelmorzi remembered that Rode hailed from Carseli. He seemed haunted by his own hometown.
The open road and the prospect of another battle did much to brighten Rode's mood.
"Fitting, isn't it, that we're headed for Bochi Orro?" asked Zelmorzi as they headed northeast out of Carseli. "With the Guipesans massed there like rats in a nest, we can end this war where the fIrst one started."
"I'm of a mind that Bochi Orro will not be the last battle," replied Rode.
"What do you mean? Surely you don't expect us to lose."
Rode scratched his long nose but remained silent. When it was clear that he would say no more, Zelmorzi continued, "Well, I'm looking forward to seeing the Golden Arch." For Bochi Orro meant "Gold Mouth," a testament to the gold plated arch erected across the mouth of the River Orro to commemorate the victory of the Morsines in the first war's first battle.
"Aye, that's got to be a sight," replied Rode, discarding the coldness with which he had greeted Zelmorzi's earlier inquiry.
"The Guipesans have had our arch too long. And the Goddesses do not look kindly upon thieves."
Rode returned a nod that was more an acceptance of Zelmorzi's view than an agreement. Zelmorzi let the conversation drop, in light of Rode's habitual reluctance to talk of anything that was not of great importance.
*** The road to Bochi Orro, as almost any road anywhere, was flecked with pathetic little towns boasting a single tavem-cum-inn, and a joint temple to all four Goddesses.
It was to such a temple that Zelmorzi headed midway through the month-long ride to Bochi Orro. It was built of stone, with a slate roof. Inside, there were four alcoves. Each was flanked by bundles of human hair, identifying the Goddess whose shrine lay there for those who could not decipher the cuneiform script carved into the lintel. Zelmorzi entered the alcove identified by red hair as that belonging to Melia. He closed the heavy wool curtain to discourage other petitioners, then lit the four red candles in the candelabra against the back wall.
The room was dominated by a yard-high wooden statue of the Goddess. Though crudely chiseled, it showed the nticingly full figure and plentiful, strategically arranged hair that identified the subject even without the bright red paint on the tresses. Melia' s province was guidance, in love and disputes in particular. Mter laying the customary offering of a copper coin in the small pile at the foot of the statue, he knelt, placed his hands on the effigy, and recited the traditional prayer for general guidance. He appended a clause asking Melia to look out for Cappel Rode in his unexplained difficulties. Having completed his prayer, he kissed the statue's crimson tresses and departed. The shaven-headed priest, alerted to Zelmorzi's exit by the rustle of the curtain, peeked in to affirm that Zelmorzi had not pocketed the offerings left by earlier worshipers.
As a consequence of his mind being on the anticipated comfort of his bedroll as well as the smallness of the common room, Zelmorzi collided with a supplicant leaving another shrine. The other man mumbled an apology and hurried out. Zelmorzi stood, regaining his bearings. He easily recognized the other man's defensive bearing, militarily cropped hair, and long narrow nose as belonging to Cappel Rode. From idle curiosity, he looked to see what Goddess the captain had been praying to.
The statue was of a young woman holding a stringed instrument that Zelmorzi could not identify, likely due to his ignorance more than the sculptor's lack of skill. The swirl of her long black hair and the poise of her feet suggested that she danced to her music. This was the Goddess Isa, patroness of artistic expression in all forms.
So here was another mystery to Cappel Rode, that a man who killed as if driven by some invisible hand should choose to pray to the Goddess of Artistic Inspiration. Few grown people commonly prayed to more than one Goddess. Tiredness prevented Zelmorzi from unraveling Rode's odd association with Isa.
*** The rest of the trip to Bochi Orro passed uneventfully. The weather cooperated to allow swift passage, and no outbreaks of pneumonia or influenza smote the soldiers. In general, the people in the towns avoided the army altogether, and the soldiers reciprocated. The rivalry between the Morsines and Guipesan was not just a quarrel of nobles, it ran in the blood of every man on the Peninsula. Seeing the resentment in the faces and postures of those Guipesans that did show themselves, Zelmorzi decided that this war was much needed to set things right. It would be, he mused, like a surgeon breaking a poorly healed bone in order to set it properly.
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