Time stopped, with everyone other than Stiger and Father Thomas seemingly frozen. A feeling of ice-cold exploded through the captain. The cold surged forth from where the paladin’s vice-like hand gripped his shoulder. Stiger cried out in agony, his vision going white as the paladin’s power hammered through him. The pain lasted for what seemed like an eternity, but in reality was only a moment. Almost as quickly as the agony had begun, it was replaced by a cooling and calming sensation that flowed throughout his entire body. A sense of calm and serenity with the world settled in his very soul. The captain’s rage melted away. Stiger blinked in surprise at the paladin, who offered an understanding look in return.
“Your soul was under assault,” the paladin explained quietly. “No longer. The High Father has freed you.”
Stiger was at a loss for words. The paladin’s power continued to surge through him, relaxing and calming. So incredible was the feeling, he was almost unable to comprehend Father Thomas’ words. Nothing seemed to matter, other than the feeling of peace and serenity.
“This fight is mine and mine alone, my son,” the paladin said softly, barely loud enough for the captain to hear. He released Stiger. Time started once again as the paladin stepped forward to confront Aveeno. It had all happened so fast, and yet to Stiger it seemed like an age had passed. The surge in power faded, but the feeling of peace and wellbeing remained, though diminished somewhat. Stiger glanced over at Eli, who also had a look of astonishment on his face. He had been touched by the paladin’s power as well, though not as forcefully.
“Are you going to let a traveling priest fight your battles for you?” Aveeno seethed, having witnessed the exchange but not understanding it. “I don’t know why I expected better from a Stiger!”
What would have normally stung his pride failed to pierce him. At this very moment, nothing could have upset or provoked the captain to anger. He felt at peace with the world.
“Your fight is with me, filth,” Father Thomas said in a voice that echoed across the great hall. Ignoring the large sabre belted to his side, the paladin held forth his hand, and abruptly a great golden war hammer shimmered into existence. It was so large Stiger was amazed the paladin could even hold it.
“I believe it is time for you to reveal your true form,” the paladin continued. The war hammer emitted a flash of white light that was so blindingly intense Stiger and everyone else in the great hall were forced to shield their eyes. When the flash had passed, Stiger saw the crumpled form of Aveeno’s body lying before the throne. Shockingly, the body was shrunken like an old grape, with steam rising upward from the remains. The two lieutenants were also down, their bodies smoking as well, but whole in form.
Where a moment before there had been nothing, a shadowy figure coalesced from Aveeno’s remains, as if pulling itself together into a coherent whole. It slowly stood, terribly hunched and impossibly twisted, facing Father Thomas. It was so ugly and misshapen that Stiger’s mind could not seem to focus on its features. Abstractly, Stiger understood he was looking upon the face of pure evil, and yet he still felt calm, relaxed and untroubled. Father Thomas and the thing were just feet apart.
“Priest … you think to challenge my powers?” the shadowy figure hissed a terrible laugh, almost serpent-like. “A holy relic alone is no match for my power!”
“I intend to banish you, filth … vile servant of Castor,” the paladin answered, calmly but firmly. The hunched, shadowy figure raised the wicked black blade that Aveeno had been holding moments before.
“You are no simple priest!” the figure sneered, stepping from the steaming remains of Aveeno. It hissed in malice, which seemed to radiate forth like heat on a hot summer’s day. “I shall be rewarded for taking your head!”
“You will take nothing but the High Father’s greetings to your master,” Father Thomas countered. “I will send you back from whence you came!”
With an incredible shrieking scream of rage, dripping with hate, malice and pure loathing, the shadowy, twisted figure lunged forward with an inhuman speed that was shocking to witness, and struck at Father Thomas. The paladin reacted with similar speed. Both the black sword and the golden war hammer crashed together with the sound of thunder.
Two powers, well beyond mortal comprehension, came together in a titanic moment. Black and white lightning exploded throughout the great hall. The world stopped, ended and then began again all in the same moment, as a sound too terrible to comprehend ripped through the room, followed by a concussive blast of wind that knocked everyone off their feet.
Stiger’s eyes snapped open. He was lying on a hard stone floor and every part of his body ached terribly. He had no idea how long he had been out. The peaceful feeling of serenity had been taken cruelly away. He slowly picked himself up and looked around in confusion. He was still in the great hall. Others were beginning to stir. Memories began to return, as he saw Father Thomas kneeling before the throne that Aveeno had recently occupied.
The paladin seemed to be in prayer. He no longer wore his priestly robes. Those had been cast aside and lay in a heap only a few feet away. The paladin’s armor gleamed with a soft, whitish light that that throbbed slightly. Stiger could only describe the light as “holy” in its source. Eli stood off to the side, watching the paladin silently. He cast a glance over at Stiger as the captain approached. Together they watched, mute, as the light emanating from the paladin’s armor dimmed and then faded away altogether. Neither dared speak.
Father Thomas stood slowly, as an old man would. He turned to Stiger. His face was drawn and lined with exhaustion. His right eyelid twitched uncontrollably and his hands shook.
“What happened?” Stiger croaked after a moment, throat dry and parched. The room spun slightly. He shook his head, as if clearing cobwebs from a long night’s sleep.
“A servant of Castor infested Aveeno’s body,” the paladin explained tiredly, voice etched with deep exhaustion. “With the grace of the High Father, both are no more.”
“A miracle,” Eli breathed reverently. “We have been blessed.”
Stiger looked over to where Captain Aveeno’s body and that of the hunched abomination had been. There was nothing remaining of either. It was as if both had never existed. All that remained was the tiger pelt draped over the back of the throne. Even the bodies of Aveeno’s two lieutenants were gone; vanished.
“With the High Father’s help, their remains have been removed,” Father Thomas explained. “Had I left anything … it was quite possible what remained might have infected others.”
The captain shivered. Castor was evil incarnate. They had been lucky Father Thomas had been with them.
“Glad you kept me around?” Father Thomas asked, guessing the captain’s line of thought. Before Stiger could reply, the paladin lurched and then fell forward, collapsing. Stiger caught him and eased the man gently to the ground.
“I am afraid that I shall be of little help for the foreseeable future,” Father Thomas breathed in a weakened voice. “I have given all of my energy and must now rest to recover. No matter how long I sleep, try to keep from disturbing me.”
“We will keep you safe,” Stiger affirmed.
“Thank you, my son,” Father Thomas said, with the faintest hint of a smile. His eyes began to roll back and then suddenly snapped back into focus. “There may be more of Castor’s contamination about … be cautious of strange items, like the sword Aveeno wielded. Do not touch anything that looks out of the ordinary.”
“We won’t, Father,” Stiger promised. “Now, if you will, please rest.”
Father Thomas closed his eyes and immediately entered a deep sleep. Stiger looked up at Eli, who had knelt by his side. Bennet and several additional legionaries burst into the hall, swords drawn. Those who had entered with Stiger were still shaken terribly, as were the villagers. Some were still struggling to stand.
“Are you all right, sir?” Bennet asked, looking over the dead and wounded of Captain Aveeno’s supporters who had first challen
ged them when they had burst into the great hall.
“Yes, I believe we are,” Stiger said, taking a deep breath.
“What happened?” Bennet asked, looking around. Everyone in the great room was acting strangely.
“Father Thomas defeated a servant of Caster,” Eli answered.
“Castor?” Bennet gasped in horror and looked down at the sleeping paladin. Eyes wide in shock, several of the legionaries with him made the sign of the High Father. The horror was quickly replaced with a look of incredible respect.
“Father Thomas needs to be watched over,” Stiger said, standing up. His muscles protested. “He must rest and not be disturbed.”
“Me and the boys will watch over the good father, sir,” Bennet assured his captain. “No harm will come to him, sir.”
Stiger nodded woodenly and stepped back, allowing Bennet to care for the paladin. The captain blinked and shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He felt as if he had slept for a week and was still somewhat disoriented. A shout outside the doorway, followed by the sound of sword on sword, shattered the moment.
“Eli, Blake, Boral … you men!” Stiger snapped. He walked over to where he had dropped his sword and picked it up. Blake, wobbling a little, stepped over. “Let’s go find out how the rest of the fight is going.”
Sergeant Boral, hand on his forehead, shook his head, trying to recover his wits. After a moment, he too followed, wide-eyed at what he had just witnessed and greatly relieved Captain Aveeno was no more.
Sixteen
Stiger found Lieutenant Ikely in the courtyard. The lieutenant looked more than satisfied as he greeted his captain. He seemed confident, in control and in great spirits. The courtyard was packed full of men. Stiger guessed there were around two hundred prisoners under guard, all sitting in the middle of the courtyard. They had been stripped of their armor and weapons. Some of the prisoners were sporting nasty bruises or nursing minor wounds. The company’s surgeon’s mate was making his way through the prisoners, working on the more serious wounds.
Several of Eli’s scouts, armed with their small bows, stood on the battlements above, looking down on the prisoners with a casual competence. A large pile of weapons and shields sat off to one side. Bodies had been lined up next to the pile. Several of the bodies sported arrows, testifying to the accuracy of the scout’s work.
“Sir,” the lieutenant reported. “Most surrendered without a fight. We have secured the courtyard, both gates, the stables and the battlements. I thought it best we begin cleaning out the barracks. Sergeant Ranl began sweeping them a few minutes ago.” As he reported this, several additional prisoners, under the watchful eyes of a guard, emerged from the barracks into the courtyard.
“Very good, Lieutenant,” Stiger said, pleased with his subordinate’s initiative. “How many casualties did we take?”
“I have two dead and four wounded, sir,” he reported, handing over a paper with the names of the dead written on it.
“How many of the garrison?”
“Out here … around thirty-two of the garrison who chose resistance are deceased. I have not yet had the wounded counted.”
“I see.”
“You should know that some of the prisoners turned on their own. Several were killed before we could intervene. I had to separate that group from the rest.” He nodded toward a separate group of ten men, under heavy guard. Unlike the mass of other prisoners, each one had their hands bound securely behind their backs with rope. Several in the group appeared to have been beaten rather badly.
“Captain Aveeno’s bullies, I take it?” Stiger said with a deep sigh.
“It appears that way. They seem to have compromised themselves.”
Stiger had a feeling he would soon be ordering the execution of those ten. An investigation would have to be initiated to determine the facts. The executions would likely follow.
“Did you manage to locate Captain Aveeno?” the lieutenant asked with some interest.
“Yes,” Stiger answered. “Father Thomas dealt with him. He is no more.”
Ikely raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing further. He had gotten to know his captain pretty well over the past few weeks. When the captain was ready, he would tell him more.
“Aveeno was a servant of Castor,” Stiger explained.
“Good gods!” Ikely exclaimed. “Really?”
“Spread the word that if anyone comes across any strange items, they are to leave them alone until Father Thomas can verify they are safe.” Stiger made a mental note that as soon as the paladin was capable, he would make sure that each of Aveeno’s bullies was carefully screened for any lurking evil.
“I will, sir.”
“Sergeant Boral.” Stiger turned to the man, who had been following him, along with Eli. Blake had separated himself from them a few minutes before and taken some additional men at the captain’s orders to reinforce and thoroughly search the keep. “Would you be kind enough to assist Lieutenant Ikely here with the search and securing of the rest of the castle?”
“It will be my pleasure, sir,” the sergeant said.
“When the castle is secure,” Stiger continued, “I would like your thoughts on the forces in the valley and specifically, who I can trust.”
“It would be an honor, sir,” the sergeant responded, snapping to attention and saluting rather smartly. “Thank you, sir, for freeing us.”
Stiger nodded and stepped away from the lieutenant and sergeant, working his way around the prisoners, who eyed him carefully. He doubted they knew his name yet, which was a good thing. They might begin to fear for their lives, which would make them potentially desperate. Desperate men could behave stupidly. He shook his head at the mess that Aveeno had left him. He hoped and rather suspected that these men could be rehabilitated. With the current poor state of the southern legions, he had a suspicion that soon every able-bodied legionary would be needed.
If what General Kromen had told him was true, there were close to a thousand legionaries garrisoning the castle and valley. With Aveeno dead, and as the senior officer in the area, Stiger was now responsible for them all. What had started as a simple resupply run had turned into much more. He was now effectively the garrison commandant, at least until relieved.
“Eli.” Stiger stopped and turned to his friend. “Would you kindly send one of your scouts to update the supply train? Also, see that the eagle is brought in.”
“I will,” Eli said, and then suddenly flashed a grin. “Congratulations on storming your first castle.”
“It is a bit more intimidating than those forts we assaulted in Abath, isn’t it?” He returned his friend’s grin. “Does it matter that they opened the front door for us?”
“Should you refrain from mentioning that little detail, then certainly I shall as well,” Eli promised with a wink, and went off to find a scout. Stiger watched him go.
“Well,” Stiger said quietly to himself, “I have taken my first castle. Now … what do I do with it?”
***
Stiger had set up his headquarters in a very large room on the fifth floor of the keep. It had somehow felt wrong to take the great hall as his headquarters, which was why he had selected this room. Someone had found a large, solid wooden table and several chairs to serve as a place for the captain to work.
The captain suspected that the room had once been a bedroom. There was a sitting room before the bedroom. Sergeant Ranl had secured a desk and chair and taken up a station to work from the sitting room like it was an office. Ranl was acting as Stiger’s direct assistant. Two armed guards stood before the door at the entrance. Lieutenant Ikely had seen to posting guards throughout the keep and castle. He had also set up random patrols in the hopes of catching anyone lurking about. Several of Aveeno’s thugs had been discovered hiding in the keep. There was no guarantee there were not more about.
Though a day after the fight, Stiger was reasonably confident the castle was safe. Under heavy guard, the bad actors had been locked up in
the castle dungeons. It had helped that the rank and file had not hesitated to point out the ringleaders, thugs and bullies who had collaborated with the corrupted Captain Aveeno.
Lieutenant Peal stood at attention before Stiger. The man was literally quaking in fear as he waited to learn his fate. The lieutenant was sweating, despite the coolness of the air blowing into the room through the open shutters. Stiger coldly considered the lieutenant, nearly a broken man, for a few more seconds. Peal had clearly not been in Aveeno’s camp, but seemed to have been a small enough fish to have escaped. Perhaps the man could be rehabilitated, Stiger wondered, though judging by the quaking, he might only be good for administrative work. Well, he thought, there was only one way to tell the man’s worth.
“I am going to give you a second chance,” Stiger growled. “Several of the men have to one degree or another vouched for you, including Sergeant Boral.”
“Thank you, sir,” Peal breathed a huge sigh of relief, shoulders slumping.
“The rank and file who did not collaborate will also be given an opportunity to continue to serve the empire. You will set up a proper camp on the valley side of the walls and begin training the men up. I will assign you Sergeant Boral. Sergeant Blake will also assist you with training. I suggest you listen carefully to their advice. Both men have far more experience at this sort of thing than you do.”
“Yes sir.”
“I will loan out a few of my corporals to help you whip the men into shape. I expect that in my spare time, I will work with you as well.”
“I will not let you down, sir,” the lieutenant said eagerly. Stiger noticed how young Peal was; probably seventeen, maybe even sixteen. His parents had likely purchased his commission. Yet his age did not matter. He was imperial nobility and as such, much was expected. The honor of his house, though a minor one, demanded nothing less.
Stiger’s Tigers (Chronicles of An Imperial Legionary Officer Book 1) Page 22