56 Windcatch
On the morning Prester Ciarlo left Windcatch to find his long-lost sister, young Davic watched him turn his back on the kirk and bid farewell to the villagers. Though they understood the prester's calling, the people were sad to see him go on such a dangerous errand.
Ciarlo had tears in his eyes as he hugged the boy he had taken under his wing. “I'll miss you, Davic.”
“And I will miss you.” He pressed his face against the prester's shoulder. “How can I thank you? You taught me about Aiden.”
Ciarlo smoothed the boy's hair. “Yes, and if I can do the same for the Urabans, there will be peace in the world, and even Ondun will be happy. You'll be safe here. Give my blessing to Prince Tomas when he arrives in a few weeks.”
“I will. I promise.” Davic had no intention of staying that long.
After the prester departed, Davic remained at the kirk for the rest of that day, doing his familiar chores. A lonely old woman invited him to live with her, but he shook his head. Fishermen brought food. A baker gave him several loaves of bread, two of which weren't even stale. “You sure you'll be all right, young man?”
“Aiden will watch over me.”
The baker wiped a smear of flour from his cheek. “I understand, but you can always come to me, or anyone else in town, if you want companionship.”
Davic waited until nightfall, counting down the hours, and finally as darkness set in he made his own preparations. He gathered the preserved food in the parsonage, stuffing it into a satchel; he took all the coins from the collection box.
He still had Ciarlo's letter to Prester-Marshall Rudio, requesting that a replacement prester be sent to Windcatch. After making sure that no one was watching, Davic stood before the kirk and in a burst of anger tore the paper into many small pieces, scattering the scraps into the cold night winds.
Moving methodically now, he carried the heavy Book of Aiden that had sat on its pedestal for years, the volume that Ciarlo himself had saved from Urecari raiders during their sacking of the town. Davic threw it on the dirt in front of the kirk, then went back inside to retrieve all the other holy texts. He had been taught everything he needed to know, long before arriving at Windcatch.
Carrying a candle from inside the kirk, he knelt before the pile of books and set fire to the volumes, fanning the blaze until the paper was consumed in cheery flames. He watched the words disappear into ash and was not sorry to see it.
He would have liked to set fire to the kirk and burn the structure to the ground, leaving only smoke and a pile of ashes, but such a blaze would have attracted too much attention from the village, and people would have rushed up to extinguish the flames, to “help” him. Davic did not want anyone to notice… not yet. This small blaze was sufficient to destroy the heretical books.
He intended to be far away from Windcatch by daybreak. The nosy Aidenists would come to look for him before long, but he doubted they'd search too hard even after they discovered what he had done. Nevertheless, he would use all of his skills to hide his trail.
He regretted not having taken the opportunity to stab Ciarlo in his bed; he'd had plenty of chances. He hoped the Teacher wouldn't be too disappointed in him. The news he had to deliver was vital to the Urabans.
Taking his pack, supplies, and stolen money, Davic headed south into the night, picking his way by moonlight toward Ishalem.