They looked at him from the corner of their eyes.
“You’re not selling anything,” said the younger, and it sounded more like an accusation than a statement.
“But you’re selling something worth having, I can see.” Erich flashed his bag of geld at the man. “My master would be most interested to know who the Church of Sol has deemed worthy of its patronage.”
Geld and compliments were powerful motivators. While he didn’t have much of the former, he had plenty of the latter.
“Who do you serve?” One man looked Erich up and down. He wasn’t wearing shabby clothes. Thanks to his short stay with Ivar, his clothes were finer than they’d been before he’d arrived in Artria, but they were a bit travel-stained.
Erich leaned in to whisper in the man’s ear, and the drama of it caught the attention of several nearby merchants, which was more than he’d expected. The more hooks on the line, the better. One of them was bound to help him get inside if he played his cards right.
“I work for a prince of Sundland.” He gave a conspiratorial wink. Sometimes the best lies were rooted in truth. If any of them bothered to look into his claims, they’d discover unsavory rumors about his time in Artria, or they’d assume he was working with his uncles who were far away from here and unable to prove his story either way.
“Aye?” said the older man.
His companion elbowed him in the ribs. “What is your patron seeking here in Basilia?”
“What any man in this city is seeking, to see the goddess’ chosen. Between you and me, he’s hoping to host a dinner that the goddess’ avatar might attend. And, of course, we could only serve the best wine.”
The older man laughed. “Your prince might be waiting a long time. The goddess’ chosen doesn’t entertain kings or princes. She’s too important for that.”
Erich shrugged as if to say, What can be done about rich fools?
“May I ride with you into the temple on your delivery?” He put his meager bag of geld into the man’s hand.
The merchant laughed as he placed the sack into his pocket. “I like you. Come up here and tell me more about this prince you serve.”
Erich did just that, chatting with them a while longer, as the line inched forward. Since he liked wine, he had plenty of insightful questions for the winemaker, and by the time they reached the gate, they were laughing and joking like old friends.
Erich tensed, gripping the hilt of his dagger. But the young Midnight Guard took the merchants’ names before waving them on into the room beyond.
It appeared to be a large cave, retroactively fitted to be a sort of cellar and storeroom. At the back, there was a long hallway stacked with boxes, barrels, and crates. And at least half a dozen acolytes were milling about, counting items and checking inventory.
The wine merchant unloaded his cart as an acolyte counted the casks. Meanwhile, Erich loitered, looking for the best way past the acolytes for a way to enter the temple proper. But, as the casks dwindled and no opportunity presented itself, Erich feared he’d either have to try and use his allure on half a dozen veiled acolytes—an attempt that would surely fail—or retreat and try again another day.
Then he saw a familiar face enter the cellar. She was talking with one of the acolytes when she looked up, and her eyes widened in recognition. Erich’s gaze darted to the exit. They’d met once in the tunnels beneath the palace of Artria. If she sounded the alarm, this would all be for nothing.
To his relief, she stepped away from the acolyte and went off to a deserted corner, where she pretended to be interested in a barrel of pickled vegetables. Erich sidled over. “Do you recognize me?”
“Yes. Though I think you’re crazy to be here.” She didn’t look around as if she were frightened but kept her eyes forward as if there wasn’t anything more compelling than fermenting cabbage.
“I need to get a message to Liane. Can you do that for me?”
“What could you possibly have to say to her?” she asked.
“Something urgent. I wouldn’t be risking my life if it wasn’t.”
“Say I deliver your message—how could I convey her reply? Are you going to sneak into the temple? You’re a wanted man, you know.”
“I’ll wait outside that door, in the alley beyond. Ask her to meet me there.”
She chewed on her lower lip and wouldn’t look directly at him. “I don’t know...”
“Please. I’m begging you.”
She sighed. “You’re as bad as her.”
“Is that a yes?”
