by Kris A Hiatt
~~~
“That’s not quite the demonstration I had in mind,” Destin told him a short while later.
“Well, it worked,” Brental replied testily. He was glad to be back in his study area. He felt more comfortable there. He knew it was still part of Shamir’s palace, but he still felt better. Not quite like being home at the College in Kilindric, but it was better. He doubted he’d ever be able to reside there again anyway.
“That was Disdane’s idea, wasn’t it?”
“It worked,” Brental repeated. He wasn’t surprised Destin figured it out. Any idiot should know that Brental wouldn’t come up with such a foolish plan.
“Fine, fine. Keep it to yourself then.”
“I’m sending Herra and the others back to Kilindric. To stay,” Brental told him.
“All of them?” Destin asked.
“Yes,” Brental informed him. “I want every member to be capable of placing a barrier over another on command. To do that, they all need to practice and learn from each other.”
“They won’t like it,” Destin argued.
It was probably true. Brental’s forces were split. Most were still in Kilindric, but nearly two dozen were here in Kadenton. The ones that were here hadn’t yet mastered the distant barrier and wouldn’t like cutting their training short. It didn’t matter. They would listen to their leader. Besides, when Shamir did move his forces in a few months, Kilindric is where they would be needed anyway. They would need the time to perfect the magic. Whether or not it was wise to wait that long to attack was a different subject entirely. “It doesn’t matter what they like. They’ll do it anyway.”
“Should I send for Herra?”
“No, I’ll tell him myself,” Brental told him.
“Well, good luck.”
“I don’t mean to intrude,” Vrindel announced from the doorway.
“I was just leaving,” Destin said, offering a bow.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Brental asked. He didn’t really mean it. It was never a pleasure where Vrindel was concerned. “Have you come to badger me into joining your ranks as a man of God?” Vrindel had been trying to coerce him into joining their two orders together. Which, of course, Brental had no intention of doing. His magical prowess had nothing to do with any outside force. It was all hard work and practice, not some unseen spiritual guidance. Let the Church keep that ideology to themselves.
“Those in Haven have already done so,” the Archbishop dared to say. “But no, I know where you stand in that regard.”
“Then why are you here?” Brental asked bluntly. Even though they had colluded in the past, the two of them could hardly be considered friends, so he doubted the nature of the visit was for social reasons. Some time ago, Brental had used Vrindel to get word to Haven’s people hoping they would challenge Drevic and his ability to lead the College. The idea was to question why the brothers would be able to heal and not consider themselves men of God, which was Vrindel’s idea originally. Brental believed it would have worked, but somehow Shamir got wind of it and sent a letter of his own informing Liernin that Drevic was no longer part of the College and was to cease all trainings related to it. It resulted it Drevic disassociating himself, and his followers, from Brental’s version of the College and becoming the Church’s new leader in Haven. That did not sit well with either Brental or Vrindel.
“Fine. I’ll get to it then. I know of your secret ventures and I’d like to utilize that person as well.”
“Secret ventures? You’ll have to do better than that,” Brental informed him.
“Your spy came to me before his departure. He was having mixed feelings and wanted my thoughts on the subject.”
Brental thought about it for a moment. Vrindel wasn’t lying. He didn’t like the idea that Vrindel knew about his secret ventures, but he couldn’t change that. Why would his man have mixed feelings? It’s not like he had a choice in the matter. “And you told him to follow his heart, no doubt.”
“No, I told him to do what’s best for his King and the people of Kadenton and do as you asked.”
“What do you want?”
“My protégé is still in Haven, for whatever reason. I’d like to know if he was coerced into staying or if he has betrayed me,” Vrindel replied.
“So a man comes to you in confidence and you use that information for your own personal gain? Archbishop, I may have misjudged you!”
“Wanting to check on someone you care about is hardly a crime.”
“If you say so,” Brental told him. “I’m just glad I haven’t told you any secrets.”
“Are you going to help me or not?”
“Let me guess, if I refuse, you are going to tell the King what you know.”
“Of course. What kind of Archbishop would I be if I knew someone was going against the King’s wishes? We all know he turned down your spy program months ago.”
“You were implicit with that too, if I recall,” Brental reminded him.
“The first time, yes,” Vrindel admitted. “But the King is aware of that transgression and has forgiven me. I never told him of your involvement. I doubt he’ll be so kind with you.”
Brental knew that if the King knew of his involvement, it would complicate things. However, he didn’t see any harm in passing along a message. “Fine, draft a letter. I’ll get it to him, but it will take time. I’ll need to carefully send a courier. My man should be arriving in Haven any time now.”
“Wise choice,” Vrindel told him.
Brental didn’t like it when someone thought they had the upper hand on him. He couldn’t do much about Disdane’s actions from earlier, but damned if he was going to let Vrindel get away unscathed. “Speaking of your flock in Haven, I wonder how they are faring under their new leader. It must be difficult for you to acknowledge that there are two versions of the Church in Onneron. Yours and one led by the disciple of a murderer. One who somehow managed to convince your most trusted friend to stay with him. I wonder if the rest of Haven prefer him over you.”
“Just see to it that my letter is delivered,” Vrindel told him with a red face.
Vrindel was obviously perturbed, which was exactly what Brental had hoped for. He loved getting under the man’s skin. If Vrindel hadn’t just asked him for a favor, the Archbishop may have retorted in some other fashion. But seeing as Brental had the upper hand, Vrindel could only stew about it inside of his head.
The Archbishop turned and headed for the door. He muttered something to himself and slammed the door behind him as he left.
Brental smiled widely at the whole scene.
Chapter 8
“I’m happy for you,” Moffred told him after Treace finished telling the story of how Kiril told her father that she was in love with Treace. “Both of you.”
“So how did Kint take it?” Heral asked.
“He was all for it, actually. He said he’s known for months, it was about time we did too,” Treace replied. He was glad to actually have a little downtime for a change. He was supposed to be meeting with Exodin, but the commander had another meeting with Liernin that ran long so he said he’d send for Treace when it was done. He was happy to spend that time with his friends. They rarely got together as a group as of late.
“Everyone’s finding love but us, Moff,” Heral remarked.
“Speak for yourself. I find love often,” Moff replied.
“A one night stand isn’t love,” Heral argued.
“Maybe to you it isn’t,” Moffred countered.
“Fine. Even worse for me then. Treace has Kiril, Drevic has Emiah, and you have your ladies.”
“Is that official?” Treace asked. “Emiah and Drevic?”
“Jealous?” Moffred asked, smiling.
“Hardly,” Treace replied. “Just curious.”
“I must admit,” Moff told him. “After hearing your stories when we were younger, I always thought she was going to be beautiful. Then I saw her in Lake City and was completely disappointed.
But now, she’s changed again. I see what you were talking about.”
“She’s six months removed from being mistreated daily by that jackass,” Treace told him. “You’d look better too.”
“Impossible. You don’t improve upon perfection,” Moffred replied.
“I think you’re mistaken about what perfection means,” Heral told him.
“Says the single guy in the room,” Moffred replied.
“That’s low, Moff,” Treace told him. “Even for you.”
“That’s okay Treace, we all know he’s truly incapable of love. It’s no wonder he’s confused about what it really means.”
There came a knock on the door.
Treace was disappointed to be interrupted. He was looking forward to seeing where this conversation was going to end up. He had a feeling that Heral was going to actually end up on the winning side for a change. “Yes?”
“The commander requests your presence, sir.”
“I’ll be right there,” Treace told him.
“Sir,” Moffred mocked when the man at the door was gone.
“You should come along,” Treace told his mocking friend.
“Me?” Moffred asked.
“You’re a military man now, so yeah,” Treace replied. At Exodin’s behest, Treace was given command of a small unit that would operate separately from the main force when and if Shamir’s forces were to be met in the open. The men had taken to calling the unit The Wolf Pack. Moffred was the newest member appointed to the pack, making Treace his superior, much to Moff’s dismay.
“He plays with a bow and arrow,” Heral told him. “He’s hardly a military man.”
“And you play with your finger up your ass,” Moff replied.
“Oh, someone actually thinks they’re pretty good with a bow now,” Heral told him.
“Leave him alone about it. Besides, he is getting better,” Treace told Heral. When Moffred first told him he wanted to use a bow, Treace didn’t believe it. It was the weapon that killed his father and brother. But after seeing the look in Moff’s eyes, he knew the reason. He wanted to pay Shamir back for what he’d done. It would take a lot of arrows just to get to him, but Moff didn’t care. He had work to do if he wanted to be considered more than just average, but Treace was confident his friend could do it. Whether or not he’d ever get a chance to loose an arrow at Shamir remained to be seen, but Treace doubted it.
“Well at least he shows promise in something other than drinking,” Heral offered. “Because we all know it isn’t magic.”
It was true. Moff couldn’t use magic. Even with Kint’s help, he could never find The Calm. While Moff didn’t show much promise as a swordsman, he had taken to archery quite well. However, it was still odd thinking of Moff as a military man.
“I show more than promise at drinking. I’m as good at that as Treace is with his swords.”
Treace didn’t disagree, but he wasn’t going to egg him on. “Come on, Moff, it’s time you see what these meetings are about.”
“Do I have to?”
“It’s an order,” Treace said with a smile.
~~~
“I’ll never make fun of you again for going to those meetings,” Moffred said after the meeting had concluded.
“Not exactly fun, huh?”
“I had to fight just to stay awake.”
“You two,” Exodin said before they could fully exit the building. “Hold on a bit.”
Treace moved to the side of the door and Moffred followed suit. The other leaders gave curious looks as they exited. Some snickered, some made faces that Treace believed indicated they thought the two friends were somehow in trouble.
“Did you actually fall asleep?” Treace asked Moff.
“No, I swear!”
“We’ve taken a prisoner,” Exodin said softly after the last of the others had departed. “Follow me.”
“Who is it?” Treace asked.
“Someone you’ll be happy that we have in custody,” Exodin assured him, moving down a long hallway and stopping outside of one of the rooms.
“Is it who I think it is?” Moff asked.
“Give us a little space,” Exodin told the two guards, who did as they were told.
“It’s Wren, isn’t it?” Moffred asked.
“Considering what you’ve been through, I thought you should be the first to know. Other than the men he turned himself into, but I doubt they knew who he really was.”
“If you’ve got Wren waiting in there you won’t like the outcome,” Treace warned. That’s the only person he could think of that it would be. If no one else knew him but Treace and Moffred, it had to be him. If it was, it was going to be tough not to kill the man. It would be no more than what he deserved.
“It’s not Wren, but like I said, I think you’re going to like this,” Exodin said, raising his eyebrows.
Treace relaxed and nodded his head.
Exodin opened the door.
“I don’t know who Wren is,” Raythien said from the cot he was chained to. “But I wouldn’t want to be him the next time you meet.”
“Please tell me you’re joking,” Treace scoffed.
“I see you remember our newest guest,” Exodin told them.
“Did you murder someone else and get caught?” Moff asked.
“I came here willingly,” Raythien answered.
“As a spy, I’m sure,” Moffred replied.
“That’s why he’s in chains,” Exodin told them.
“I’m not happy he’s here at all,” Treace began. “In fact, I was hoping I’d never see the man again. So tell me, Raythien, why are you here?”
“I’m not a spy. But I get it,” Raythien replied. “I wouldn’t trust me either. But I’m telling you the truth.”
“I should kill you right now,” Moffred told him.
“Moff,” Treace said, stepping in front of his friend. “Go. I’ve got this.”
“Not until he’s either back in a cell or dead,” Moff replied. “Preferably the latter.”
“I get that you’re angry right now, but go. It’s an order.”
Moffred looked to Exodin for support, but the commander didn’t say anything. Moff gave Treace a hard look before storming off.
“I took no joy from the death of his family,” Raythien told them somberly.
There was remorse in his voice, but it didn’t change what he had done. He gave the order to the firing squad to loose their arrows upon Moff’s family. “What are you doing here?” Treace asked.
“I don’t believe in what Shamir is planning. I can no longer stand idly by and support the tyrant that he’s become.”
“Says you.”
“He’s given me detailed accounts of Shamir’s forces,” Exodin told him. “If it’s true, which I believe it is, we now know their strengths and weaknesses and a timeframe of when they will attack.”
“If it’s true? I doubt it. And thanks to him I’m sure Shamir will know ours very soon,” Treace replied. “Once he gets the chance, he’ll run right back to his master.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Raythien told him.
“Damn right you’re not,” Exodin said. “Because you’re going into a cell. Don’t worry, unlike what happened to Treace, you’ll be treated fairly.”
“So I’m a prisoner then?” Raythien asked.
“Damn right you are,” Exodin told him.
“I thought you trusted me?” Raythien asked.
“I never said I trusted you. I said I believed you, which is precisely why you are still alive,” Exodin told him.
Raythien shook his head. “You’re really no better than him, are you?”
“I was chained to the top of a cell. I wasn’t given food or water for days. On top of that I was given the opportunity to die so that one of my two companions could live. Consider yourself lucky,” Treace told him and walked away.
Exodin called for the guards but didn’t follow.
Treace knew they would be taking Raythien to
a cell. Good riddance.
~~~
“And being in a cell is exactly where he deserves to be,” Kiril told him.
A few hours ago, Treace wholeheartedly agreed. But now that the shock of the situation had worn off and he’d had time to reflect upon it, he wasn’t so sure. “Those were my original thoughts exactly.”
“Original? You’ve changed your mind?”
“To be honest, I’m not quite sure. That’s why I wanted to talk to you.”
“No,” Kiril corrected. “You have, you just want to soften it for me.”
He wasn’t surprised she caught him so easily. She read him so well. He offered her a smile as an admission of guilt.
“What do you think then?”
Treace told her his plan. At first, she was hesitant, but the more he talked, the more she listened. By the end of the night, not only did she completely agree, but she also added some ideas of her own.
“You won’t be able to convince Moffred that this is a good idea,” Kiril warned.
“Give him time,” Treace told her. Several months ago Moffred convinced Kint to come with him to Haven. When Shamir found out, he accused Moff of being a traitor and Treace a spy. Even though Kint didn’t reveal any information, let alone anything regarding Shamir or his forces, it didn’t matter. Shamir had made up his mind. By association, Kiril was also labelled a traitor. Even though it looked like they had, none of them had actually done anything wrong. It didn’t matter. They were pursued, caught, and imprisoned. Not only that, but Moff’s own family was killed because Shamir thought they might be guilty. They were killed by a firing squad of Raythien’s archers. Moff wouldn’t like Treace’s idea. Not at first anyway, but that was understandable. Treace didn’t like the idea at first either. Truth be told, he wasn’t entirely sure he did now. All he knew was that they couldn’t do the same thing to Raythien that was done to them. He needed to know the truth of the man.