covering. It trickled down to the floor, where it made a small pool beneath her.
"You were with the Wizard. Did you witness the power of Ran he speaks of?" The Baron nodded towards the Wizard.
She blinked back at Sulrad in astonishment. He had paused long enough to shave his head and beard and had donned a black robe with gold piping. The robe flowed around him as he knelt before the Baron.
"I don't know whose power he used, but I did witness him vaporize a number of the soldiers and drive the rest of them off before they could put the farmers to the sword or burn their crops."
Her eyes kept straying to the Wizard. His shaved head and long black robes looked silly. She wondered what he was up to with such an elaborate affectation.
"I'm sorry," she finally blurted out. "Why have you shaved your head and what are you wearing?"
The Wizard looked up at her. "These are to mark me as a Priest of Ran. I have taken an oath to serve Ran for the rest of my life. No other shall have a place in my heart, no woman, no child for me. I am a Priest of Ran. I have dedicated my life to him and to his worship. I exist only to serve him and guide others to his light."
"And what does this service entail, besides fighting the King's troops on behalf of my father?"
"Ran is merciful and powerful. He shines his light on everyone who comes to him. He heals the sick, soothes the suffering, and prospers his people."
"Care to show us how that works?" Rotiaqua asked. She was skeptical about all the talk of Ran, but Sulrad had power - that was certain.
Sulrad turned to the line of petitioners. "Is there anyone who comes here seeking assistance? Perhaps for a sick or injured child?"
Back in the line, a woman raised her hand. "I do, Sire. I have come asking for medical help for my son. He was run over by a wagon and his leg is twisted and broken." Her ragged homespun dress was threadbare and dirty. Her hair looked to have been quickly brushed out, but bits of straw still stuck out of it here and there.
The Wizard walked along the line. "Anyone else?"
Farther back, a merchant stood in the line. He wore fine clothes and jewelry made of gold and precious stones. He leaned on an ornate cane for support and looked to be overfed. He raised his hand. "My daughter. She has weak eyes. She can't see to do her work, and needs a guide to take her from place to place."
The Wizard motioned to the merchant. "Please take me to her. I will heal her."
"But what about my son?" the woman asked.
"I can't heal everyone," the Wizard said, dismissing her. He turned to the merchant and extended his arm.
"Please, kind sir. Won't you heal my son? He won't be able to work with his leg all twisted up like that. How is he supposed to support a family?"
Sulrad turned to look the woman in the eye. "Then it's best that he not raise a family, if he can't care for it."
She grabbed at his robe, but Sulrad pulled it away from her. "Leave me alone!"
Sulrad turned back to the merchant and extended his arm. "Let us see about your daughter."
Rotiaqua was furious at the way Sulrad had treated the woman. Why was the merchant's daughter worthy of healing and not the poor boy? She turned to her father to voice her complaint, but before she could say a word, he held up his hand.
"Go with him and witness what he does," the Baron said. "Then come back and tell me about it."
Rotiaqua looked at him, her eyes full of anger. She glanced down at the towel that enfolded her. "Like this?"
The Baron laughed. "I didn't ask you to come down half dressed." He waved toward the Wizard and the merchant. "Hurry up before you lose sight of them.
Rotiaqua and Sulrad followed the merchant to his house. The foyer was large and decorated with fine paintings of the man and his family. The daughter was depicted in many of them. She was a chubby, sour-faced girl with her father's nose and chin, and her mother's eyes.
Rotiaqua and Sulrad were escorted into a sitting room and served refreshments. The
"You were with the Wizard. Did you witness the power of Ran he speaks of?" The Baron nodded towards the Wizard.
She blinked back at Sulrad in astonishment. He had paused long enough to shave his head and beard and had donned a black robe with gold piping. The robe flowed around him as he knelt before the Baron.
"I don't know whose power he used, but I did witness him vaporize a number of the soldiers and drive the rest of them off before they could put the farmers to the sword or burn their crops."
Her eyes kept straying to the Wizard. His shaved head and long black robes looked silly. She wondered what he was up to with such an elaborate affectation.
"I'm sorry," she finally blurted out. "Why have you shaved your head and what are you wearing?"
The Wizard looked up at her. "These are to mark me as a Priest of Ran. I have taken an oath to serve Ran for the rest of my life. No other shall have a place in my heart, no woman, no child for me. I am a Priest of Ran. I have dedicated my life to him and to his worship. I exist only to serve him and guide others to his light."
"And what does this service entail, besides fighting the King's troops on behalf of my father?"
"Ran is merciful and powerful. He shines his light on everyone who comes to him. He heals the sick, soothes the suffering, and prospers his people."
"Care to show us how that works?" Rotiaqua asked. She was skeptical about all the talk of Ran, but Sulrad had power - that was certain.
Sulrad turned to the line of petitioners. "Is there anyone who comes here seeking assistance? Perhaps for a sick or injured child?"
Back in the line, a woman raised her hand. "I do, Sire. I have come asking for medical help for my son. He was run over by a wagon and his leg is twisted and broken." Her ragged homespun dress was threadbare and dirty. Her hair looked to have been quickly brushed out, but bits of straw still stuck out of it here and there.
The Wizard walked along the line. "Anyone else?"
Farther back, a merchant stood in the line. He wore fine clothes and jewelry made of gold and precious stones. He leaned on an ornate cane for support and looked to be overfed. He raised his hand. "My daughter. She has weak eyes. She can't see to do her work, and needs a guide to take her from place to place."
The Wizard motioned to the merchant. "Please take me to her. I will heal her."
"But what about my son?" the woman asked.
"I can't heal everyone," the Wizard said, dismissing her. He turned to the merchant and extended his arm.
"Please, kind sir. Won't you heal my son? He won't be able to work with his leg all twisted up like that. How is he supposed to support a family?"
Sulrad turned to look the woman in the eye. "Then it's best that he not raise a family, if he can't care for it."
She grabbed at his robe, but Sulrad pulled it away from her. "Leave me alone!"
Sulrad turned back to the merchant and extended his arm. "Let us see about your daughter."
Rotiaqua was furious at the way Sulrad had treated the woman. Why was the merchant's daughter worthy of healing and not the poor boy? She turned to her father to voice her complaint, but before she could say a word, he held up his hand.
"Go with him and witness what he does," the Baron said. "Then come back and tell me about it."
Rotiaqua looked at him, her eyes full of anger. She glanced down at the towel that enfolded her. "Like this?"
The Baron laughed. "I didn't ask you to come down half dressed." He waved toward the Wizard and the merchant. "Hurry up before you lose sight of them.
Rotiaqua and Sulrad followed the merchant to his house. The foyer was large and decorated with fine paintings of the man and his family. The daughter was depicted in many of them. She was a chubby, sour-faced girl with her father's nose and chin, and her mother's eyes.
Rotiaqua and Sulrad were escorted into a sitting room and served refreshments. The
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