Serillion laughed. “I wouldn’t believe all that you read. I’ve just had an interesting session with Scholar Torsion, and if his interview techniques are indicative of how they collate history, then it will be far off the mark.”
Birlerion leaned back in his chair. “Oh, yes?”
“I’m quite glad I had such a vigorous workout this morning, it helped keep me calm. As you said, he’s very interested in you. In fact, I would say he is rather fixated. He was desperate to find out what you did at the end.”
“And you said?”
“That I had no idea, which is true. I was there and yet I have no idea what you did. What did happen at the end?”
Birlerion stilled, his heart fluttering in his chest as his brain shut down. He closed his eyes as he unconsciously withdrew behind his considerable reserve, and Serillion reached over to grip his shoulder. “Stop blaming yourself for something that wasn’t your fault.”
Birlerion stared down at his book, the text blurring. He had to clear his throat to make his voice work. “She’ll never forgive me.”
“For what?” Serillion asked as he eased the now crumpled book out of Birlerion’s fingers.
“I saw Leyandrii and Guerlaire fall. I couldn’t help them.”
“Why couldn’t you help them?” Serillion asked.
“I wasn’t with them, and I should have been. I couldn’t reach them in time.” Birlerion cleared his throat again. His chest constricted as Leyandrii’s final moments spooled past his eyes.
“You said it was Leyandrii’s choice; you were following her orders. Do you think you could have stopped her?”
Birlerion shook his head, unable to speak.
“You couldn’t. So, stop thinking you could." Serillion gentled his voice as if aware how tenuous their connection was. "Where were you?”
“The Ascendants built a communication array in the Justice building. It was huge; rings of crystals. Leyandrii sent me destroy it. Marguerite sent Taurillion to protect me. It didn’t quite go to plan.” Birlerion twisted his lips. “She rescued Taurillion. He was hurt. Who knows if he made it, or Marianille and the others.” Birlerion gripped Serillion’s arm, his eyes gleaming, and Serillion returned the embrace.
“Marguerite wouldn’t have sent Taurillion after you if it hadn’t been important. If you hadn’t taken out that array, it would have been much worse for everyone. You know that, Birlerion.”
Birlerion eased his shoulders. “I should have been with her.”
“No, that was Guerlaire’s job. Yours was to follow Leyandrii’s orders.” Serillion’s grip tightened on his arm. “You hear me? None of this was your fault.”
Out of the three of them, Serillion always saw things so clearly. Birlerion nodded. “I’m so glad you are here,” he whispered.
“I’m glad you are here, too,” Serillion replied, pulling his friend into a rough embrace. He blinked furiously as he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drag up old memories.”
“They are not that old; it seems like only yesterday we were at the academy and you were teaching me to read.”
Serillion laughed. “I only started you off. The scholars taught you the rest.”
Birlerion gave him a tentative smile. “No, it was those late-night sessions.”
“What do you think Torsion wants?” Serillion asked.
Birlerion sighed. “He reminds me of Clary. The same arrogant sneer; the anger simmering under the surface as if he’s owed. He doesn’t like me.”
“You don’t say.” Serillion frowned. “It’s not just dislike. Torsion is determined to turn everyone against you, much like Clary did, come to think of it.” He tilted his head inspecting his friend. “What is it about you that they fear?”
Birlerion snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. I am nobody. You said it yourself; I was dying on the streets of Vespers until Guerlaire found me.”
“Not Guerlaire. Leyandrii. She was the one searching for you. She relied on you, trusted you. She always turned to you after Guerlaire.”
“I’d prefer you didn’t tell anyone that.”
“Not even the Captain?”
Birlerion shrugged. “Focus on where I came from, not where I went. It will drive Torsion crazy.”
“Think of all the things you achieved in Terolia and Elothia. We should be speaking of it, if only to show that Torsion is stirring trouble. If we don’t tell the king or the Captain, how will they know?”
“I don’t trust Torsion; no matter what you say, he’ll only twist the truth. Don’t give him any more fodder to chew.”
“Leyandrii always rode your shoulder,” Serillion said, and Birlerion flinched, her loss an ache deep in his gut. He felt incomplete, her absence a gaping hole in his soul.
“That’s probably because I was rougher around the edges than the rest of you; she didn’t trust me to be diplomatic.”
Serillion laughed. “Rubbish. You were the best of us all and you know it. She trusted you, and you always managed to find what she needed, along with the trouble.” He smiled fondly and patted Birlerion’s shoulder. “I always said you would be the one to achieve the most out of all of us.”
“Yeah, right.” Birlerion leaned forward. “What else was Torsion interested in?”
“You. What powers we Sentinals have. What power the Lady had. What we knew about the Bloodstone. How many of us there were and where I think they might be. And then back to you again.”
“Is that all?”
“Oh, he was also interested in our sentinals. He wants to visit one. Yours being the closest, he was angling for me to get you to invite him in.”
“Maybe we should let him visit and then not let him out again,” Birlerion said with a vicious grin.
“Now, now, stop showing your teeth. He is only a scholar, and the Captain trusts him.”
“He shouldn’t. But I suppose he will have to find that out for himself.” Birlerion frowned at his book and began smoothing the crumpled pages. “Do you think you’ll find the palace?” he asked, changing the subject.
Serillion relaxed in his chair as if aware that confidences were over. He began describing the progress, or rather the lack of progress, that they had made up at the Landgard. “I’m going up to the palace to search the king’s library if you want to come? He gave us permission to search for any records of the old palace.”
Birlerion closed his book. “Got to be more interesting than this,” he said as he rose.
King’s Palace, Old Vespers
That same morning, Jerrol returned to the palace archives. He was the first to start work. Tagerill stood on guard outside his room in the palace barracks as he opened the door that morning.
“How was your day off?” Jerrol asked, smiling as Tagerill’s face lit up. He looked relaxed; his day off had done him some good.
“We explored the gardens and the temple. Some parts aren’t so different from the old Vespers.”
“How did you manage to meet Lady Miranda?”
“She had a day off as well. She offered to show me the city, which was very kind of her.”
“So, you got on all right?”
“Very well. Though she was a bit sensitive about the prince; we avoided politics, to be honest.”
“Probably safest,” Jerrol agreed. “It would be interesting to know how much she knew of the prince’s plans.”
“I’m sure she would already have spoken to the inquisitors,” Tagerill replied. “I did get the impression that she felt alone, isolated.”
Jerrol descended the stairs, Tagerill close behind. The archives were very similar to the Chapterhouse records rooms; dark, secluded chambers lit by carefully placed oil lanterns. The risk of fire was high, and the custodians were strict on the rules. The air was just as dry and musty.
He frowned at the notes he’d written. The families who had supported the Ascendants were no more, yet he didn’t recognize any of the family names, except Clary, and that was only because Birlerion had mentioned them. The
y were not prominent today, no matter how important they had been previously. So, what had happened to them?
It was much later when Jerrol glanced up as Tagerill shifted in his chair. “I’m starving,” Tagerill said, “let’s get something to eat. It will all still be here tomorrow.”
Jerrol grinned at his guard’s presumption, but now that he mentioned it, he had a headache from the lantern’s fumes and hunger pangs were cramping his stomach. Stretching, he stood and tucked his notes into his jacket. “Alright then, let’s find some food,” he said, following Tagerill out of the archives.
They approached the open hatch where the kitchen staff were serving, and selecting their lunch, moved off to an empty table. Glancing around the room, it looked like they had the place to themselves. A few King’s Guards lingered over their coffees, but most people had already eaten.
“You found the Captain’s sword,” Tagerill said, wrinkling his nose as he pushed the turnip to the side of his plate. He stabbed the pie crust to let the steam escape and Jerrol inhaled the tantalizing aroma of stewed meat.
“Yes, Guerlaire handed it to me the other day down in the chamber. It doesn’t seem as though anyone but you and I could see it.”
“It’s taking steps to conceal itself. People will register that you are wearing a sword but won’t realize it is that particular sword. Captain Guerlaire wore that sword the last time I saw him.”
“What can you tell me about it?”
Tagerill shrugged, scanning the room. “It was forged by the Guardians, and it is thought to be indestructible. The Lady bestowed it on Guerlaire when she made him her Captain. There were many rumours about it being sentient, though Guerlaire never confirmed them one way or another.”
“Sentient?”
“Yes, it’s rumoured that it can communicate with the Captain and channel the Lady’s power. You should be able to create Waystones, or at least find those that still exist.”
“Waystones? Serillion mentioned them before.”
“There was one up near the Lady’s Palace, but it’s lost. We’ve found no sign of it. You’ll have to create a new one.”
“I don’t know how.”
Tagerill grimaced. “However Guerlaire did it, he was extremely discreet, but Birlerion or Niallerion knew, I’m sure.”
“Your brother seems to be at the centre of everything. I think he knows more than he is letting on. Why would he keep anything to himself?”
Tagerill pursed his lips. “My brother learnt to defend himself the hard way. But don’t you ever doubt him; he is the Lady’s. He always kept his thoughts close; he never was much of a talker. He was always good at attracting trouble. Sometimes, I think Guerlaire used him as a distraction. Dominant Clary couldn’t resist an opportunity to put Birlerion down. He never succeeded, though he tried hard.” Tagerill smiled sadly. “He really tried.”
“That doesn’t help me much,” Jerrol said.
Tagerill grinned. “I’m sure the sword will tell you what you need to know.”
“That’s what I’m worried about.”
Tagerill watched more off-duty guards enter the hall. “The only thing I can tell you is that any deception the sword is projecting will stop if it is not attached to you. So, don’t let it go.”
Jerrol leaned forward. “Tagerill, what can you tell me about the Ascendants?”
“What do you want to know?”
“Well, what were the Ascendants like in your time? I’ve traced their descendants, but all their families have disappeared. Didn’t they hold land in Vespiri?”
“Of course. Most of them were from the old families with large estates. From what I can tell, the Administrative structure you have today is much the same. The Administrators ran the country on behalf of the Lady. They tended to be the wealthier families, and their children had access to the academy and the chapterhouse.
“It all started to change when a few of them joined the scholars and showed a bent for diplomacy; they were appointed to the Lady’s council. Those who were able to perform magic and evinced special skills began to believe that they were better than everyone else. They called themselves Ascendants and began using the title ‘Dominant’ instead of Councillor or Administrator. The power of a name,” Tagerill said, rolling his eyes.
“Then they began to argue that they were the elite and should be in power, that they were pure of blood, and if you didn’t have an old family name with the wealth behind it, you should bow down before them. We had quite a few run-ins with Clary. He was the main instigator of the trouble. He had the power and knew how to use it.”
“Birlerion said he saw Clary at the towers.”
“Birlerion hates him. He gets a bit unreasonable if you mention him. You can’t blame him. Clary couldn’t stand the fact that Birlerion came from nowhere and graduated as a Lady’s Ranger and that Leyandrii supported him. They had a bit of a feud. Clary tried to discredit him, if not downright kill him, in the end.
“Well, as you can imagine, that didn’t go down well with Leyandrii, especially when they started throwing their magic around with little regard for the rest of us or the land itself. The last few months before Leyandrii sundered the stone, we were all running around the country trying to protect the people from their wild magic.”
Tagerill paused, collecting his thoughts. “Captain, that is what I don’t understand. Where are the rest of the Sentinals? There should have been far more than just us.”
“Well, I haven’t woken everyone yet, and we don’t know how many still survive across the other kingdoms, but I did get a message from the Lady. She said: ‘Heal the wounded, restore the forgotten.’ I wondered if the missing Sentinals are the wounded and the Ascendants are the forgotten.” Jerrol pushed his empty plate away.
“Or the other way around. I could have sworn that the Lady spoke to me in the temple the other day. I heard the words: ‘Don’t forget the forgotten’. It could be the missing Sentinals who are the forgotten. I mean, you found those you could see, but what about the rest; there are many still missing.”
“That would mean they didn’t go across the Veil with the Lady as we all assumed. They must still be here somewhere, even without a sentinal tree. Which would also mean,” Jerrol said slowly, feeling his way, “that the Ascendants or maybe their descendants are here as well. The wounded or possibly the lost. But where are they? We only hear about the top of the tree, those out preaching and casting their mind spells. Where are all their dependents?”
A comfortable silence fell as Jerrol finished his coffee. Jerrol started when Ari appeared in front of him, chittering in distress as he bombarded him with a jumble of images. “Saerille? Is Saerille in trouble?”
Tagerill held his arm out, encouraging the Arifel to land, and gently stroked his soft white chest. “Shhh, we can’t understand you, calm down,” he soothed as the little creature wrapped his tail around his wrist. The Arifel flapped his wings and glared at Tagerill, who grinned back, unrepentant.
“Saerille. What about her?” Jerrol tapped the Arifel, drawing Ari’s attention back to himself.
Jerrol got a short burst of images showing Saerille getting tangled in the Veil. There were areas of damage, and he got the impression that someone was searching for her. She couldn’t hold the Veil much longer on her own; she needed help.
“Can anyone else patch the Veil or do we need to go now?” Jerrol frowned at Tagerill. “Could another Sentinal provide Saerille with relief? The king wants me here. I really need to follow the trail and find out more about the Ascendants.”
Tagerill scrunched his face up as he thought. “Serillion, maybe, but he ought to get the Landgard excavated. That would assist you in travelling these long distances. The Captain always popped up when we least expected it. Kept us on our toes, I can tell you.”
“The Scholars can do the digging. It sounds like they’ve barely started. We could spare him for a month or so to help Saerille. He might have something to work with by the time he gets back. Within the m
onth, I should be able to travel up to the towers and seal the Veil properly.”
They rose from the table, aware of the men casting them strange glances. Jerrol tightened his lips as they returned the trays and hurried out of the mess hall, Ari gliding above them. Quickening their pace, they entered the palace and went in search of Serillion. They found him in the king’s library amongst the polished wooden shelves of leather bound books. A slender blonde-haired Sentinal poring over an old map of the Lady’s palace with Birlerion.
“Where did you find that?” Jerrol asked, momentarily diverted.
Serillion grinned. “Birlerion found it at the back of the king’s shelves. I think Leyandrii left it out for him to find.”
“As if,” Birlerion said with a fond smile. “Leyandrii was never organized.” He extended his arm to let the Arifel land, and Ari chittered at him as he settled.
“Well, I don’t think she would have wanted you to find this. Look, there is a hidden passage leading outside of the palace grounds. She had a hard enough time keeping track of us all as it was.” Serillion said as he leaned back over the map. “Though I think if we can find the boundary, we should be able to locate the palace. It would take years to excavate, but it would be nice to know where it was.”
Birlerion smoothed his free hand over the parchment. “At least we’d know where they fell.”
Serillion straightened up, clearing his throat. “Anyway, Captain. Do you need us?” he asked.
“Yes. You, in particular. Saerille needs some help up at the Watch Towers. I was hoping you could go and help until I can get up there to seal it properly.”
“As you command, Captain. There’s nothing happening here. It’ll be months before they dig down far enough to find any evidence of the palace, and the Veil is key.” Serillion cast a glance at the map. “The palace would be down deep, as well. Marguerite would have kept it safe. I doubt we would find it.”
Marguerite, Leyandrii’s sister. The casual mention of the goddess still shocked Jerrol. He tried to concentrate on the matter at hand.
“Report immediately and call me if the situation is dire and you need me. Do not risk the Veil, Serillion.”
Sentinals Rising: Book Two of the Sentinal series Page 6