Loyte O’Tulvar did not have to say anything to make her displeasure known about the injuring of her master. What she might call him was nothing that Ionas hadn’t already called himself. At least now he had come to a realisation. It wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t even Beau’s fault (as much as he’d like to blame Beau). It was just one of the random things that happened and was nobody’s fault. A lot of what-if’s had gone through Ionas’ mind. What if he had aimed at a different part of the dragon? What if he had just delayed a fraction or if he had just been that bit quicker? But he had come to the realisation that Beau could have done exactly the same, delayed that bit more or quickened it up that bit as well, altered his position so the bolt would still have struck his dagger.
Though, of course, that didn’t mediate his continued desire to fix up this mess. It was still his dagger that had caused the damage and thus his responsibility to try and fix it.
With Beau and the Captain down fighting on the ground, Ionas was one of the few people left in positions of command, Larman Ogges and Tayliana being two of the others. There were still some spare weapons in the armoury and there was a stretcher in the store room. Ionas had seen it before and so they were soon retrieved.
So with the Brownie as a guide, everyone was soon ready to descend in the bucket down to the ground. The magic darkness spilled out of the cup and continued to do so giving them cover from the chaos of the battle.
As they carried the wizard towards the Temple of Fidalis, Ionas could see the Priestess, part deer, part person. He’d already angered one god, he decided that he didn’t want to anger another, though the brief chance for a formal introduction soon left as she hurried them into temple to take the Lord Magus down to the healing waters.
The crewmen went first, carrying the injured wizard down and trying to keep up with the priestess while not jumbling the patient around too much, which wasn’t an easy task. Thimble, Lotye, Tayliana and Ionas were following after through the narrow passages.
Luckily the passages were quite short as they soon opened up into large caverns. A stream of water sourced from a bubbling spring flowed through the cavern over a natural water course eroded out of the rock. Claw marks etched patterns into the stone floor, though what these patterns might mean if they meant anything at all was totally lost on Ionas.
They were in some kind elaborate bath with a courtesy shrine to Dian Cecht, the god of medicine. Cushions and lounges were scattered around this barely lit area but the darkness was no match for Ionas’ eyes.
The crewmen laid Jeneyeru down while Lotye and Thimble attended to their master.
“Lady Priestess Moonrain,” Ionas said, bowing politely to the Priestess. “Thank you for your hospitality and assistance. May I introduce Taliyana Winddancer, chief wizard of La Danse Calinda, and these are Lotye O’Tulvar and Thimble, servants of Lord Magus Jeneyeru Nightwise. I am Ionas Farseer, La Danse Calinda’s humble lookout.”
Ionas was suspiciously good at formal introductions as he bowed and said everything with the right tone,even directing to Tayliana, Lotye and Thimble at the appropriate times.
At least someone was sensible and delayed this insanity for another day. The battle was nearly ended. All the players from the Sesan gang seemed to have been despatched, excluding of course their ‘friend’ Haug Handslayer. Baugl of Caernith was currently engaged in a battle for his life but there was very little Y’lanna could do to aid that without getting in the way herself. The battle with the bandits had been winding down, only a few stragglers continued to fight.
The Temple had almost been reclaimed that at least was some good news.
Y’lanna for now was just standing there near Ruili, Peino, Beau and Lafitte. Looking over the strangers among Ruili and his brother and wondering how they fit into this and the floating ship that had been their transport. It wasn’t some kind of proper powered flight that Y’lanna knew but it seemed that giant bag of gas, probably helium, was keeping it afloat.
However, what was more interesting was the aura of seething anger that seemed to dance over the hull of Calinda from the clouds that surrounded it. The anger seemed to also to strike down against the bandits, though perhaps not with the same intensity of anger as was reserved for the Calinda or its crew.