They kept to the narrow streets, where the stone path was broken and rainwater dripped from old gutters. Morena walked steadily, her cloak drawn close, the wounded clerk limping beside her with every step.
She kept her keen eyes on the man, never allowing him to go more than an arm’s reach away. Whenever he stopped for a break or complained about the pain, she would just yank him along.
She made sure the city wouldn’t notice them, taking paths no one used. The clerk’s ragged breaths were the loudest thing about them, each one fast, shallow. It was clear that he was losing blood quickly, but he wouldn’t die.
The AI had already confirmed that he wouldn’t die, at least not before reaching the granary, and once they got there, she would have him treated.
By the time they reached the granary near the ropewalk, his knees had nearly given out, the wound on his leg having eaten away at his strength.
Morena dragged the man inside by the collar, getting some help from the servant once they were within the walls. The air within was thick with dust, shafts of pale light cutting through the slats overhead.
Grain sacks lined the walls, hints of mice lingering by the bites on their ends.
Corin was already there. The second he heard they had arrived, he rushed to meet her. He stood stiff in the half-light, satchel pressed against his ribs, the leather tube in his grip.
His eyes snapped to the clerk at once, narrowing sharply.
"A clerk? Is that one of the people who were following me? You brought him here?"
His voice was harsh, tight with alarm, but his mind was clouded by fear.
"Are you mad? He’s one of them. You should have slit his throat and dumped him somewhere."
The clerk flinched at the words, his shoulder hunching as though he could make himself disappear; he didn’t even try to speak up or defend himself. He didn’t have the strength to do so even if he wanted to.
Morena didn’t slow as she walked, moving past the man. She guided the boy to the far wall, forcing him down onto a sack of grain.
Hark had entered the room as well, having been waiting here with Corin since she ordered him to.
"Hark, bring me some herbs to treat him."
She gave her orders to Hark, who quickly left, then turned to Corin to reply.
"If I killed him, his silence would be the only thing he offered. Alive, he has more to give."
Corin barked a bitter laugh, though there was no humor in it.
"And you trust that more coin will buy his tongue? You think he won’t lie through the blood in his teeth?"
Morena turned, her eyes steady on him.
"He doesn’t have to like me or trust me. He only has to want to live. That is enough."
Her hand rested lightly on her dagger’s hilt. The clerk’s eyes darted between them both, wide and pale with fear.
Corin muttered a curse under his breath, then shook his head.
"You’re playing with poison."
Morena said with a nod.
The man wasn’t wrong; trusting any answer the clerk gave, even with his life on the line, was one that came with a price. If she trusted the wrong answer, then that price might just be something she couldn’t afford.
But not getting answers at all would be a bigger price, a sin she wasn’t willing to make. It wasn’t who she was; she could handle false information, she couldn’t handle none.
"Poison can be useful, if one knows how to measure it."
She knelt before the clerk. His breath came shallow, the cloth at his side dark with blood.
She let the silence stretch until his eyes lifted to hers.
"You have ears, you’ve heard our conversation, and you will answer truthfully, won’t you?"
She said, raising her hand to the man’s wound, pressing a finger against his bleeding leg.
"Because if you don’t, that wound will fester. You’ll choke on your own blood before morning. I can keep you alive to answer my questions. But only if I choose to."
The boy’s lips trembled.
His hand pressed harder against his side, as though his will alone could seal it.
Morena raised her bloody hand and pressed it against his lips, stopping him.
"You do. And you will."
Soon enough, Hark returned; he brought the herbs, but nothing else. Shaking her head, she forgot how dull the man could be, or perhaps it was her fault for not giving better orders.
"Fetch water. Cloth. Enough to bind him."
Hark left without a word again. The clerk’s eyes widened further, as though the promise of treatment cut sharper than any threat.
Corin shifted restlessly, muttering.
Morena ignored him. She reached into her pouch, drew out a single silver, and held it before the boy’s eyes.
"For every truth you give me, you’ll earn more than coin. You’ll earn another breath."
The boy swallowed hard; the promise of not only life, but also money blinded him. His voice was faint when he finally spoke.
"What... what do you want to know?"
"Who sent you after Corin?"
The boy hesitated, biting his lip as he contemplated his options. His eyes slid toward Corin, then back to Morena.
Sweat pooled at his temples.
Morena pressed the silver to the wound at his side until he hissed, then pulled it back.
"A... a priest. He told me what to do. I was only meant to follow. He said if I did, I could be promoted."
Morena’s brow narrowed faintly.
"And the man with the knife, was he ordered by the same person?"
"He was ordered by another priest, Priest Loren. She ordered him to capture him and bring him back, but the one who sent me didn’t trust her. I was only meant to watch, make sure nothing happened, and send word. That’s all I know, I swear it."
Hark returned with water and cloth, setting them down with a heavy hand. Morena didn’t move to bind the wound yet. She let the boy see the cloth, smell the water, and then set them aside.
"You’ll get these when I’m satisfied."
The clerk’s breathing quickened, his eyes dropping to the bandages with naked hunger.
Corin exhaled sharply through his teeth, muttering as he did.
"Loren. I’ve heard her before. She’s crazy, kills anyone that gets in the way of ’spreading the word of god.’ She’s nothing but a psychopath."
"Why did she want him alive?"
"Do you know, or have any idea?"
The boy shook his head furiously.
"No—no, they didn’t tell me the details about it. They kept it very secretive... but."
Morena’s gaze sharpened.
"But what? You heard rumors?"
"I never heard anything directly from them, but some altar boys, other clerks like me, were talking about it. They said that they wanted to kill him because he was practicing heresy, that he was a descendant of the forsaken ones."
Morena didn’t look away from the clerk, but she now had more questions for Corin; ones she would satisfy later.
"Where were you meant to bring the word, if Corin left?"
"The chapel side door."
"A man in white waits, sometimes different, but always there. I-if they don’t see me by sundown they’ll get suspicious."
Morena’s hand tightened slightly on the dagger.
The chapel, a man in white, and the church. What a mess.
She couldn’t help but sigh; she wanted to just train, progress her strength, and live an enjoyable life, and yet here she was caught up in a messy situation just a few weeks after waking up in this world.
She leaned back, finally letting Hark bind the wound. The boy whimpered but didn’t resist.
"But your life belongs to me now. Try to run, and I’ll know. Try to lie, and I’ll know. Serve me instead, and perhaps you’ll walk free again someday."
The boy nodded frantically, too weak to do anything else.
Corin’s voice was bitter in the dim.
"You’re chaining yourself to a rat. He’ll bite you the moment you turn your back."
"Then I’ll make sure his teeth break first."
She turned her gaze to the boy again, her voice soft but cutting.
"Rest, I will have more use for you tonight."