The Price of Faith Read Online Free PDF Page B

rivers running down her face into the linen of the bed.
    The sight of the healer crying stopped him, shocked him from his addiction. Thanquil pushed himself off the bed and stumbled away, again tripping over the prone body of Hizo, this time hitting the floor as he fell.
    He was shaking. His hands, his arms, his legs, even his head. He was shaking all over from the rush of pleasure from using the compulsion. Thanquil didn’t trust himself to speak any more, didn’t trust his own tongue for what it might say. Silently he pushed back to his feet and made for the door.
    “Please don’t…” Shen said between sobs. “Please don’t go.”
    Thanquil turned once and glanced back at the healer. She wasn’t on the bed any more, she was on the floor, on her knees, begging him not to leave, tears still streaming down her face.
    Without a word Thanquil threw open the door and fled.
Thanquil
    Thom, probably the most prolific, infamous and apparently immortal thief Thanquil had ever met had once told him he was a brilliant pick-pocket and an accomplished sneak-thief. Of course Thom had accompanied the compliment by stealing the purse from Thanquil’s belt and sending him on his way none the wiser. That being said Thanquil knew a few things, one of them being how to steal from unlocked houses in poor rural villages in the dead of night. So, by the time he left the village of Colmere Thanquil had procured an ill-fitting shirt made from the itchiest fabric known to man and a pair of well-worn boots better suited to the fire than to cover anyone’s feet.
    Shen didn’t come after him and nor did she send anyone in her stead. Doubtless she would receive no small amount of grief from the villagers for allowing him to leave as such but she didn’t seem the type of woman to crack under such pressure. Still, Thanquil couldn’t help but remember her on her knees, crying and pleading with him. The memory made him shudder but it was more to do with his own actions than her response. Thanquil had long ago sworn not to give in to the addiction of the compulsion but it was something he had to fight every day; a nagging, gnawing need to dominate other people's will. He was disgusted at himself for allowing even that slight lapse in his intent.
    Finding west in the night sky, with no sun to guide him, might have been a real problem but Thanquil soon discovered a small, dirt road, well worn with the sign of hooves, leading out of the village. An old wooden sign with the word Talon on it was almost more than he could have hoped. It gave him a direction at least though following the road in his current condition was difficult, but he needed to put some distance between himself and Colmere lest the villagers decide to come looking for him. He doubted Hizo was the type of man to take such a defeat lying down. Come the morning Thanquil would take himself off the path a ways, find a tree to rest under and pray to Volmar that no wild animals mistook him for an easy meal.
    It was at times like this he missed Jezzet the most and not just for the protection she provided. The Blademaster could most likely have fought her way out of the small village though, he had to admit, the body count would have been a lot higher. He missed Jezzet for the company. She made him smile and brought out the best in him and, Thanquil liked to think, he returned the boon. Unfortunately Jezzet had a small issue with Thanquil’s profession. It wasn’t that she disagreed with the hunting of witches and heretics, or even to the occasional burning of said heretics. Jezzet disagreed with the entire notion of Thanquil having to report to the Inquisition. She mistrusted the organisation since their exposure and subsequent purging of Inquisitor Heron but, even more than that, she disagreed with their treatment of Thanquil afterwards.
    Upon learning of Inquisitor Heron’s heresy Thanquil had not reported to the council of Inquisitors but had instead taken matters into his own hands