by Guy Antibes
“I’ll support you as best I can. Torlo might be of some help too.”
“I just want some breakfast,” Carlo said. He’d been silent for most of the journey, since the three women rode together now that the group closed in on the abbey.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
~
A s they rode down into the valley of the Black Finger abbey, riders didn’t come to greet them, this time. When they reached the walls of the abbey, a few monks stood above the gate. “What do you want?”
“Breakfast!” Carlo said.
The others laughed, but the monks weren’t amused.
Rucco lifted his voice. “We have come with news from the cavern. Open the gates so we can deliver our message to the abbot.”
The monks conferred. Torlo appeared above the gate. “They said it was you, but I admit to not believing them,” he said.
“Let us in. We don’t have much time,” Rucco said.
Torlo disappeared, and soon the gates creaked their way open. The gates were shut as soon as the last rider entered the courtyard.
The monk walked beside Rucco. “Things have changed. Watch what you say since we are unsure what our status is with the chapter. We didn’t expect any of you to return.”
Jack didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t utter another word. Monks took their horses, and they were ushered into the refectory for a meal before they would meet with the abbot.
“You eat like you haven’t been fed for days,” Rucco said.
“That is about right,” Jack said. “My last meal was breakfast yesterday. It is mostly the same for the rest of us.” He noticed that even Penny was cleaning her plate.
A monk walked up and said, “It is time.”
They all grabbed an extra bite and left the refectory with the monk. They entered the same meeting room from before. The “leader” of their previous meeting introduced himself to them this time as the abbot, something that didn’t surprise Jack at all. The monks seemed to play a different game from the Black Fingers in the cavern, but Jack didn’t know the rules the monks were using. He hoped to find out.
“You are back? Torlo said something happened at the cavern.”
“The library caught fire,” Jack said. “We used the diversion effectively to leave the cavern. Addio Barumi was about to take over the society. Unfortunately, he perished in the flames.”
“How are you so well informed?” the abbot asked.
“Penny and I saw it happen while we scouted for a way out. Addio had convinced the head to lock us up and probably kill us.”
The abbot ran a hand through his iron-gray hair. “By all that is Grishel’s, is that why you are here?”
“If I can’t use the feather, I would like to borrow the device that you used when we were here last. The one that draws away magical power.”
The abbot snorted and smiled, but there wasn’t any humor behind it. “You are an audacious young man. Do you think you can come in here and have me give up a precious artifact for free?”
“I’ll do one hundred rods,” Jack said. “That would be one hundred-twenty in your possession. How long would it take you to create that many?”
The abbot sighed. “You already know none of us have the ability at the abbey. Those who can live in the cavern.”
“And the cavern is currently in the process of turning away from Grishel,” Rucco said. “They represent a threat to your order with or without the eagle-sect monk.”
“I don’t need you to remind me of that,” the abbot said. “We learned that yesterday.”
“As a measure of good faith, I can begin immediately,” Jack said.
The abbot looked at the others. “I will return with my decision.” He rose along with the others and left them in the meeting room.
Rucco smiled. “The energy objects have a great deal of practical value to the monastery. The object you seek has no real value. Any monk who tries to wield it on another will lose his own magic.”
“Not so fast for a female,” Jack said.
“How do you know that?” Barria said.
“I think the metal has the same spell as Grishel’s Feather imbued into it. From what we can determine, female wizards aren’t as affected,” Jack said. He hoped that would stop any further discussion on the matter. Some of his information came from Grishel, and he couldn’t disclose he experienced a visitation, not now.
“You can’t believe everything you are told,” Helen said.
A monk stepped in. “The abbot is still discussing your situation. I will show you to the visitors quarters where you may wash off your travels.”
That was a nice way of saying they all needed baths, Jack thought. “We might as well,” he said out loud after rising from the chair.
~
Jack sat down in the bathroom. He had laid down in the room the three men shared. There were four beds. Most of their clothes were left behind in the cavern, so the abbot wouldn’t get fresh smelling visitors, but at least they would have washed faces.
He pulled off his bracers, thankful that he hadn’t had to use them yet. His errand wasn’t over, though. He took his shirt off and noticed Eldora’s kiss still decorating the inside of his forearm near his wrist, but then he noticed something else. A new tattoo had appeared on his other forearm, balancing out the red lips.
Jack looked closely at the outline of a bird. It didn’t look like an eagle to Jack. Actually, the proportions were more like a hawk. He tried to imagine an eagle, but no, it was definitely a smaller bird. Jack couldn’t help smiling. A centuries-old conflict could be solved immediately, but no one would believe him.
He barked out a laugh and stripped down to slide into a tub filled with cold water. It wasn’t his first cold bath, but he still didn’t enjoy them as much as a hot one. At least the cold water seemed to draw off the pain from his back. It hadn’t left him after Penny had done her work on him. He scrubbed his body with a rough cloth and soap that felt like it was burning off his skin.
The bath didn’t last long, but the hawk tattoo remained. At least he had a souvenir of his chat with Grishel, if anyone chose to believe, he had a smidgen of proof. He had to put his dirty clothes back on, but he felt considerably more refreshed.
They didn’t wait long before being summoned to the meeting room.
“If you are willing, we will lend you our object under the same terms you offered for Grishel’s Feather. Will that be acceptable? We will give it to you once you have imbued one hundred rods with healing power.”
“Thank you,” Jack said, leaning back relieved. “I will get to work immediately.”
The abbot nodded. “Times are going to be difficult for us. Our monks have to decide if they want to be Black Fingers or Grishelian monks, I’m afraid.”
“Won’t that be difficult given the proximity of Grishel’s Cavern?” Helen asked.
“Our abbey is more defensible than the cavern,” the abbot said. “They don’t even have a water source.”
The room went silent.
“You expect a violent end to your relationship?” Rucco said.
The abbot nodded. “That is why I conceded your taking the object of power. We will need the healing rods.”
Jack sat back, astonished. “I’m sure Grishel would be pleased,” he said.
“We know he would. The culling had begun some time before you arrived. Our crisis peaked when Addio Barumi arrived, but the pressure to become more strident in society, if you will, has been building for some time.”
“Those of us who just want to study become a liability,” Rucco said. “I’ll not be going back, but I am not fit to be a monk. I will volunteer to accompany Jack and Penny on their return to Corand.”
“And I will represent the abbey,” Torlo said. “I will return here, even if Rucco decides to stay in Corand.”
The abbot nodded. “That will be acceptable. Now all that remains is a mighty task for any of us, but perhaps not so taxing for you, Jack Winder.”
The
door opened. “Riders at the entrance to the valley. Many of them,” a monk said barging into the meeting.
“Gather what you can from outside and secure all the gates, even the secret ones. We can’t rely on former monks to respect their oaths,” the abbot said. “Instead of healing, you might help us fend off our brothers.”
“Ex-brothers,” Rucco said.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
~
J ack stood close to the gate but out of sight. If there were any negotiations, he couldn’t be seen, nor anyone else in their group, including Rucco. They had passed enough wizards on their flight from the cavern, that their presence would implicate the abbey and make a bad situation worse.
The abbot looked at the assembling Black Finger riders with his arms folded. Jack would perform one more act if they survived the fight. He would cleanse all the monks of their blackened fingertips, but first, they had to beat back the others.
Penny tugged at his sleeve. “Wouldn’t it have been better for us to have taken our armor with us when we fled the cavern? I’d feel a bit more comfortable fighting all those wizards with a little protection.”
Jack blinked. “What? We didn’t have the time,” he said.
“Our armor was in the same stalls as the horses. Right, Rucco?” Penny said.
The ex-Black Finger cleared his throat. “Actually, I don’t think anyone had the time to tie it to their saddles.”
“Oh,” Penny said. “We left under duress.”
“You didn’t notice?” Jack asked. How could she say such a thing? Did they commit a huge blunder?
“I suppose you forget all kinds of things when you have to escape,” Penny said.
“A little thinking never hurts, but I’d have to give Jack the benefit of the doubt. We could have had the entire cavern after us at any time,” Helen said. “In fact, they are right outside this gate.”
“Armor?” Torlo said. “We have a small armory. It looks like the hostilities haven’t started yet. It is over there.” He pointed to a building attached to the wall. “Please hurry.”
Even Rucco joined them running to the little armory. There were still a few breastplates and helms hanging from the wall. Rucco, Carlo, and Barria grabbed swords. They returned to their spots. Jack adjusted his bracers. They might come in handy fighting against anyone who tried to scale the walls.
“Abbot, open your gates!” Jack recognized the voice of Garolla, the head of the Black Fingers.
“Why do you bring so many of our brothers and sisters to the Abbey?” the abbot said. “I don’t see any friendly faces out there. Everyone seems armed with a sword or a wand. Is Addio Barumi your leader now?”
“You don’t know?” Garolla asked. “He died in the fire that destroyed our library. Without the library, our chapter’s focus must change.”
“You have already been turning away from Grishel,” the abbot said, “even before the prior came and the Corandians arrived.”
“You have the Corandians behind your walls. We are sure they started the fire. Give them up, and we will leave you alone, for now.”
“For now? What does that mean?”
“Times are changing for the Black Finger Society,” Garolla said. “You will be fully with us or fully against us. Grishel no longer has a place within the society.”
“Then we are no longer brothers,” the abbot said.
Jack could sense the regret in the abbot’s voice. The two branches of the Passoranian chapter of the Black Finger Society were no more. Jack knew he was in the right place, fighting for the right side.
The abbot shook his head with a face filled with sadness and walked down from the gate. He wore no armor, but the leader of the abbey headed straight for the armory. Jack looked up at the monks, who began putting on armor they had taken with them to the walls.
The abbot emerged; his robe obviously covered a cuirass. He held onto a wand similar to the one that Penny grasped in her hand.
“Make more of the rods,” the abbot said. “We will call if we need you.”
Two monks carried a box filled with wooden scraps. It looked like the abbey had sacrificed chairs to provide the objects of power.
“You want healing rods, or do you want rods that will recharge power?” Jack asked.
“Can you do both?” the abbot said.
“I am a helper, after all,” Jack said.
“Both. Start with the ones that will reinforce magic. Not all the monks are powerful enough or trained enough to use magic over a distance.”
Jack could appreciate that. “I will get started. I will need to sit.” He didn’t say he might pass out from making so many objects in a hurry, but wooden objects didn’t take as long or hold as much magic as metal.
The monks dumped the sticks on the ground and upended the box so Jack could sit. He got to work. Before he had ten done, the battle began with a hail of wizard bolts sizzling against the rock wall. A few monks screamed when they were hit, but he doubted many of the wizards could send a fatal bolt very far.
“You need to get up to the wall,” Jack said to his group.
“Keep your heads faced away from the fighting, but the more people the Black Fingers see, the better,” Helen said.
Jack kept at his rod production. He could feel his power draining as he worked. The fight wore on, but it was clear that the Black Fingers could do little against a rock wall. Perhaps that was a weakness of relying on magic. Jack gave the thought a moment’s more reflection before he declared his job done. He had produced seventy-two rods. Fifty were for recharging, and the rest were for healing. Jack hurriedly put the recharging rods in the box, keeping a healing rod for himself, after recharging the power in his knife.
He ran up the stairs to the wall to see the enemy for the first time. A few crude ladders were being dragged from the woods surrounding the valley. Jack couldn’t think of a thing he could do from such a distance, especially with his power depleted.
He looked at his sword but decided not to use Takia’s fire. He had to save the power to use the objects in his sword at a more critical time. The ladders arrived, and they were immediately employed.
Jack didn’t know what he could do to help, but then he remembered his bracers. Those did not use his power, but Eldora’s. He would have to exercise creativity to use them in a battle, but he was willing to try. The Black Finger invasion was the only thing keeping them from heading to Raker Falls.
He stood over the first ladder leaning against the wall. Jack had to laugh. The Black Fingers had made the three ladders too short. The enemy began to build mounds to raise up the ladders.
It was time to test his bracers. He pointed his arm down from the crenellation in the wall and invoked the red-cuffed bracer. A powerful stream of water shot out from Jack’s hand. He washed it over the men bringing the dirt and rocks to make the mound, and the dirt turned into mud, ruining their work.
Jack moved to the other places where ladders were being raised and ruined the Black Finger strategy. He knew it was only a respite, but the distraction allowed the monks to take more of their ex-brothers out of action. The bracers actually provided Jack a bit of a lift, energy-wise, while he used them, so he continued to drench the ground surrounding the abbey, creating a moat of gooey mud.
The fighting continued. The Black Fingers started to use fire to dry out the ground, but it merely made the mud steam and bubble. The siege was a mess on both sides. Neither group had any expertise at fighting, it turned out.
Helen ended up talking to the abbot, and after conferring with his leaders, she began ordering the monks. Instead of the monks fighting spread out, she directed them to fight in groups of three with varied abilities.
Those that were injured or too weak in magic to fight were ordered to support the fighters. Food and water were brought up.
About an hour later, Jack was brought to the west side of the abbey. Eight horses had dragged a siege engine of sorts on the road leading to the abbey. It had a roof to shed water, and
it proved to be effective.
Helen ordered sword-bearing monks to gather on either side where the Black Finger siege tower would touch the rampart. The mud still stopped the Black Fingers from massing too close to the wall.
“Get shields up to protect everyone from wizard bolts,” Jack said. “Anything will be better than breastplates alone. Make sure the objects are used to recharge waning power.”
“Of course,” Helen said, grinning. “Do you have any other orders?”
“Stand back. I have an idea.”
The tower slid into position, and the first heads popped up on the other side of the wall. Jack shot a wizard bolt. A scream sounded, but orders were barked from below. It was time to act.
Jack took the blue bracer and laid down layer after layer of ice on the walkway. It was probably a handspan thick for ten paces on either side.
“Let them come,” Jack said.
The Black Finger soldiers scurried along the wall and stepped onto the slick walkway. As more were pushed onto the parapet, they started to slip and soon most of the men were on their hands and knees trying to crawl across the ice.
“Now!” Helen said.
Distracted by the slick surface, the Black Fingers suffered loss after loss.
Jack finally had enough and sprayed a light wash of Takia’s fire over the siege engine. He still had to be careful not to burn out the guard of his sword. Soon the ice was melting, making the footing even worse and the smoke from the burning tower reached high into the sky.
Buoyed by their success, the monks threw open the gates and attacked the remaining Black Fingers. Jack and Carlo ran around the walls to make sure none of the enemy tried to get into the abbey away from the fighting. He found a few feeble attempts, but some of the monks who didn’t have the skill to engage directly finally dared to patrol the walls.
Jack ran back to the gate and scurried down the steps and said to Carlo, “I’m not very accomplished with a sword, but you are. Let’s help the monks.”
Carlo raised his sword. “For Grishel!” he yelled. Other monks adopted the rallying cry and the fight intensified. Jack waded into the fray, giving and taking wizard bolts. He was about out of power. He invoked the invisibility spell he had stored in his knife and cheated, cutting down Black Fingers who were about to do the same to less adept monks.