Mark of the Fool
Chapter 672: Mother Charity

“You spoke of your soldiers being avenged.” Professor Vernia Jules advanced on Sir Sean Swift. “You said that we destroyed the monsters who’d killed them. Well, would you care to know how that came to be? It was because of—”

Her finger formed quotation marks.

“—that ‘fool’ you people keep referring to—like he was the vilest, lowest form of life ever born. It was Alex Roth who did that. He worked with me to organise a strikeforce to find Carey London. He fought beside our warriors and Thameland’s, risking his own life. He was instrumental in avenging your soldiers. He was the one who uncovered so many hidden secrets about dungeon cores. If it wasn’t for him, what chance do you think there'd be of ending these wars permanently?”

“I—” the knight started to speak.

“Don’t interrupt me,” she cut him off, her expression hard enough to cut stone. “Listen to me carefully, Sir Sean, the same young man you insist on calling ‘Fool’, has probably eliminated more Ravener-spawn than you and every soldier you’ve ever commanded combined. And that’s just him alone, never mind his companions and everyone else he’s led into battle.” She gestured toward the rundown village around them. “This place—your fief—is safer because of him. Greymoor was cleared of monsters thanks to events he helped set in motion. Would I say he’s the most important person to ever walk your realm, or the greatest wizard who ever graced our organisation; exaggerations like that would be a disservice.”

She glowered at the knight. “But, I can say with every confidence that his contributions to magic and to your realm will be remembered for generations. And that his name will be remembered for generations, not that derogatory title. The Fool’s name, Sir Sean, is Alexander Roth. And we all owe him a great deal.”

The knight sputtered, his jaw tensing. “Maybe we are both wrong, then.”

“Are you calling me a liar, Sir Sean?”

“No, of course not, professor,” he said respectfully, though his voice was stiff. ‘But if this Alexander Roth is truly such a great young man, then he can’t be the Fool. The Fool can’t cast spells, he can’t do magic…he can’t even throw a punch, let alone kill Ravener-spawn like how you tell it. Perhaps the priests have made a mistake and we’ve got the wrong man. Perhaps you’re mistaken about him too; you wouldn’t understand, because you’re not Thameish. The Fool’s a necessary part of the Heroes, but the role means they’re the least of the Heroes. They can help and support the others, but that’s it. They can never be great on their own, we know this. Maybe we’ve got a case of accusing the wrong man, but I know Mother Charity will sort this—”

Professor Jules interrupted him with a bitter laugh that echoed through the village. “Sir Sean, with all due respect,” she said. “You could fill the skies with all the things you don’t know.”

The knight snorted, turning away. “No need to be rude. You’ll see. The Fool can’t do any of the things you’re talking about. If Alexander Roth is so capable, then he can't possibly be the Fool.”

“Fill those skies, Sir Sean.” Professor Jules rolled her eyes. “Fill those skies.”

With those words, they reached the centre of the village where the church and a large tavern stood. The church was tall—perhaps three floors high—and the only completely stonestructure in the village.

The white hand of Uldar was painted above the entrance andanother one marked the side of the building where a fenced in graveyard lay, likely the final resting place of the priests of Uldar.

While the rest of the village looked like it had seen better days, Jules noted how well maintained the church was; its roof had been newly patched and the front doors were smooth and polished. ‘Priorities,’ she thought, looking at Uldar’s white hand with increasing resentment.

Sean opened the doors, revealing rows of pews and a spotless entrance leading to the altar. Fresh candles burned in tall golden candlesticks at the front of the church and a soldier was atop a ladder, busily polishing a stained glass window bearing the image of Uldar smiling down in benediction.

The morning light filtered through the window, shining on a group of people standing around the pulpit.

Warriors wearing tabards bearing the symbol of their god, looked up, eyeing the Watchers and Professor Jules as they entered the church. They were surrounding priests and a tall, straight-backed priestess, whose white robes were trimmed in gold.

The priestess looked up, eyes falling on Professor Jules with a gentle gaze, as Jules watched her warily, knowing that within the church of Uldar, innocent looking lambs could just as easily be wolves.

Vernia was ready.

“Greetings,” the woman’s voice was calm and soothing. “Welcome to the church of Uldar at Luthering. I hope that Uldar eased your journey here.”

“We had ways of easing it ourselves,” Professor Jules said, walking up to the priestess and her guards. “I take it you are Mother Charity? I am Professor Vernia Jules.”

“I surmised as much.” Mother Charity lowered her head in greeting, then looked up at the Watchers. “Will your armed escort be necessary?”

Professor Jules looked at the church’s warriors, armed with blades and clad in armour and tabards. “Will yours? I think it’d be better if all of our witnesses stay right where they are.”

Mother Charity raised an eyebrow. “You seem tense, Vernia. May I call you that?”

“You may call me Professor Jules.”

The priestess’ expression did not change one bit, though several of her warriors bristled.

A young priest—a man at most half a decade older than Alex—turned beet red, stepping forward. “Mother Charity is treating you with Uldar’s kindness and respect. Could we ask the same courtesy of you?”

‘This is a courtesy,’ is what Professor Jules thought. ‘What I really want is for the Watchers to blast your skeletons from your bodies; I’m actually being positively kind right now.’

“I do believe we are here in a professional capacity,” Professor Jules said. “Therefore, I feel the most respectful way to proceed would be to use our professional titles.”

“I see… Well, that is a pity,” Mother Charity sighed, as though she was lamenting all the evils of the world. The young priest looked at her with the kind of fawning admiration the educator had seen on the faces of impressionable students in the presence of charismatic mentors.

The professor’s tension grew.

‘They’re all bloody fanatics,’ she thought. ‘I have to be careful since I have no idea what they’ll do. If any of them are from the hidden church, they’ll likely have some scheme they’ll be wanting to satisfy.’

She didn’t pretend to have any special gifts for seeing through schemes; in the end, though she was a leader, a wizard, an alchemist, an academic, a mother, and a grandmother, none of which qualified her as some clever spy or rogue from a bard’s tale who could see through devious plots.

She was the woman, after all, who’d been tricked by a lab partner over a two year period; so, she had no illusions about being a master manipulator.

And that left her keenly aware of what she and Watcher Hill had discussed last night; not giving these bastards anything to work with.

“Then let’s move on to those ‘professional reasons’ we are both here,” Mother Charity said. “Your letter stated that you would be refusing the command of the king and high priest of Uldar? That you were not open to presenting the fugitive known as Alex Roth before us?”

“I thought you didn’t know whether or not Alex was the Fool?” Jules said. “Why are you already calling him the fugitive?”

“We know as surely as we know Uldar watches over us,” Mother Charity said.

‘He hasn’t for thousands of years, has he?’ Jules thought bitterly.

“Why have you not handed him to us?” theyoung priest jumped in.

“Because we do not have to,” Jules stated matter of factly. “Alex Roth is a student. I am not about to hand over one of my students to anyone.”

Mother Charity raised an eyebrow. “Will you really do this? This is an order directly from our king and High Priest.”

“Which does not matter to me,” Jules said decidedly.

“You disrespect the thrones of our king and god!” the young priest shouted.

“Edward, calm yourself,” the priestess commanded him.

Watcher Hill moved a step closer to the professor.

“You know what? I don’t see the need to continue this conversation any longer,” Professor Jules said. “Unless, I can convince you to give this course of action up. Alex Roth might be this Fool, but he is a fine and heroic young man.”

“He is a deserter and a liar,” Mother Charity corrected. “And his absence is blasphemy. I am afraid I must insist we take him into our care.”

“And what will you do if I say no?” Professor Jules’ tone was even.

Mother Charity’s eyes narrowed. “We might have to take you into our protection…if the Fool is manipulating you.”

Watcher Hill burst out laughing. “I don’t think so.”

“Do you threaten Mother Charity?” Edward growled, stepping forward.

As one, the church’s soldiers reached for the hilts of their swords.

“We’re not going to fight you,” Watcher Hill said. “If you attack us, we’ll simply leave. This is your holy ground and we’re outside Greymoor; don’t think for a moment that I’m going to give you an excuse to capture us.”

Edward flinched, surprise and irritation plain on his face.

Professor Jules kept her eyes fixed on Watcher Hill.

Is this why they’d set up this meeting?

“This matter involves the kingdom’s future,” Mother Charity insisted. “The king and High Priest will not take this well. You could see the rights to Greymoor revoked.”

“Then that is a matter beyond both of us,” Professor Jules said. “You can run back to your king and High Priest, and tell them that they can meet with CouncillorKartika.”

For a long silent moment, Mother Charity watched Professor Jules intently.

“I ask that we do not escalate this. There is no reason for our king to be burdened with meeting the leaders of your city and university.”

A flash of annoyance erupted in Jules as she cursed Baelin for not being there.

“We can resolve this now,” the priestess continued. “We will not back down. This must happen—the Fool must come back to Thameland—and I ask that you return him to us.”

“The final answer is no,” Professor Jules growled. “And neither you nor I have the authority to resolve this ourselves, so we’ll be leaving now. And I warn you—if you show us even the slightest threat—we will see that as an act of aggression by your kingdom. Alex is not coming to you; I’m well aware of your history and how many Fools end up dead. Your god doesn’t need defenceless children to fight his battles.”

Mother Charity’s expression did not change as Professor Jules turned to walk away. “That is sad to hear,” the priestess sighed. “I will return to Ussex with your disappointing answer.”

“You do that!” Professor Jules called back.

Her eyes fell on Sir Sean who looked back with a mix of regret, confusion and irritation.

She shook her head, walking from the church and out to the square.

The Watchers fanned out around her then tensed, looking out over a sea of soldiers.

Every warrior under Sir Sean’s command—and more from the church—stood at attention, watching the wizards with menace like barely contained guard dogs. Their faces looked tired. Angry. Desperate.

“We’re leaving, professor,” Watcher Hill whispered, casting flight magic on the professor as she and another Watcher took the alchemist’s arms and soared high above Luthering, the village shrank below them.

“Watcher Hill, look,” a warrior-mage nodded toward the forest around the village. “There’s steel glinting in those trees.”

Hill cast a sensory enhancement spell on herself, then swore. “So that was their game.”

“What?” Professor Jules said.

“The entire thing was a trap, but not for us,” she said. “It looks like they expected Alex to be with us or following somewhere nearby, maybe trying to listen in on our conversation in the church. They were probably going to grab him in the trees or the village. That’s why they brought so many soldiers.”

“Bastards,” Professor Jules cursed, mentally calling her skeletal steed to her.

“And now it makes sense for them to have brought that hot-headed priest with them,” Hill surmised. “They were looking to start a fight and goad us into striking first, then—if Alex was hiding somewhere; they’d arrest him when he appeared.”

“Well, it didn’t work out like that for them, now did it?” Professor Jules’ smile held no joy. “I’m glad Alex wasn’t here. Hopefully, the amount of time it takes for that Mother Charity to return to the capital, inform her king, and for him to respond, gives us time to prepare for those arrogant bastards. I need to speak to Alex and Councillor Kartika.”

“I took the liberty of contacting them,” Hill said.

Professor Jules looked at her with gratitude.

Edward looked at Mother Charity in agitation.“The trap failed. Our entire plan failed. We neither caught him, nor gained anything. This was all for nothing!”

They stood in the doorway of the church, watching the wizards shrink in the distance.

“I wouldn’t say we gained nothing,” Mother Charity said. “Did you notice Jules’ annoyance when I mentioned the chancellor of their university?”

“No…I am not as adept at seeing through people as you are,” the younger priest said.

The priestess smiled. “It is alright. These things come with experience. What is more important is that it seems something has happened to make the ancient wizard unavailable…or perhaps there has been a schism among their ranks. A very interesting development. A very interesting one indeed.”