Chains of a Dark Goddess by David Alastair Hayden Read Free Book Online Page B

ago when I dropped off my child, Zyr,” Nalsyrra said.
    “The paralyzed girl,” the priestess said to the priest.
    “Ah yes,” he said, never taking his eyes off Breskaro. “Orisala, eh? Never knew her name. And what — I mean who … Who are you … sir?”
    “I am her father.”

Chapter 9

    High Priest Artorio guided Breskaro and Nalsyrra along a winding gravel pathway to the convalescence ward. The acolytes and clergy they passed avoided Nalsyrra but recoiled from Breskaro. Many of them, especially the men, had been recently wounded and wore bandages.
    “What happened here?” Breskaro asked. 
    “They were attacked,” Nalsyrra replied. “A week before I arrived.”
    “And you felt safe leaving Zyr here?”
    “I did not foresee another attack before my return.”
    “Who attacked you?” Breskaro asked the priest.
    “The Temple of Saint Resban the Avenger,” Artorio responded. “It’s about a day’s ride east of here.”
    “Did you provoke them?”
    “We mind our own business. The Resbani have decided that we are a stain on the purity of their faith, and with the Fourth Crusade about to begin, they felt compelled to attack us.”
    “You fought them off, though.”
    “Yes, but we took heavy losses and their numbers are swelling. I fear what will happen to us without intervention. Hopefully General Togisi will launch the crusade soon. That will draw them away from here.” Artorio sighed. “It’s a shame things have gone this way. So many people here depend on us for their health and safety. One of the devotees we lost was here recovering from a severe injury to…”
    Breskaro stopped walking. Nalsyrra and Artorio continued on without realizing he’d fallen behind. Every fiber in Breskaro’s body twitched. The force within the qavra swelled. His hand moved to his sword.
    A threat to this temple was a threat to his daughter.
    Nalsyrra realized he wasn’t with them. “Breskaro? Is something wrong?”
    He shook his head. “Nothing that I can’t make right.”
    The convalescence ward was an extensive building in the back of the compound. A number of windows and balconies opened onto the ornamental gardens that surrounded it. High Priest Artorio opened the door to the ward.
    “If you will allow me to forsake humility for a moment, I must say that your daughter has had the best care possible. Under the care of anyone else, anywhere in the Issalian Empire, she would have died.”
    Breskaro stepped in but Nalsyrra didn’t follow. “I must see to Zyr. We will talk later, Breskaro.”
    “Please understand, my lord,” said the high priest, “that when we undertook her care, we thought we could heal her entirely. We truly would not have made the attempt otherwise. When she arrived, she was paralyzed from the head down, her spine broken in three places. She could respond only with her eyes. Her mind seemed good, but she could not speak for some reason. We repaired her spine, as we have done successfully with a few other patients. Our operations went perfectly, but for some reason, she still cannot talk or move. It is a mystery.”
    “Why did you let her live? It’s not much of a life for her is it?”
    Artorio stopped before a closed door. He fidgeted. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead. “Many would be angry if we kept a loved one alive in such a state. I know. But please understand that it’s against our edicts to let a patient die if we can help it, no matter the circumstances.”
    “How did she come here?”
    “She was found floating in the River Ayre. The fishermen who recovered her brought her here immediately, knowing that we were the only ones who might could save her.”
    “They found her north of here?”
    “No, to the south. They didn’t know where she had come from, and no one came looking.”
    “Did you put out the word?”
    “We asked in the area and sent notice to a few temples nearby. But we could give little information other than a description. She had no