The young ladies of the church did not miss a note in their hymns to Alden, and sang of the sacrifice and forgiveness that the lord of the city came to speak to God about. Cristoff knelt before the golden cross held high on the wall behind the wooden rail and podium, he felt he was not alone.
“Heavenly father, I have been besieged with a troubled heart and mind, please forgive me. The curses of Devonmir haunt this most holy of cities, my family lives away as result, and I have not the strength nor heart to carry on the fight without cause. My men kill the already dead, the kings dishonor the crown and church, and the men of your word keep distance from our dishonored lands. My battles for you and Harlaheim seem but a distant hope as all I have fought and prayed for seems lost and decaying beyond my power. In my heart you gave me the courage to lead great men, but the world has taken the honorable enemy and left me with corrupt ones on my back door. Should you see fit in your mercy and grace, o’ lord of heaven, challenge me once more, inspire me once more, let me bring honor to my family and my sword again in your name. Be it here, or Caberra, or Shanador I care not. I have always fought for you and family first, and my honor and loyalty to the throne second. Take me from here, from the misery that is Harlaheim, should it be your will that I carry on in your grace. In your holy name, Alden Lord of Heaven, bless me and keep my family safe. Amen.”
His head remained low and bowed at the altar for unknown hours. Men and women came and went, the choir changed from female to male in their practices, yet one man remained in prayer with the lord of the city the entire time. Cristoff glanced at the man, younger by maybe two decades or less, from the south by his complexion and lighter eyes of blue. He noticed the white tabard and red feathered cross, crossed with a blue sash. A knight of Chazzrynn here in Saint Erinsburg? he thought. The man had been in prayer since he had entered, yet silent unlike Cristoff who prayed aloud. He was unsure what to make of the knight so devout and far from home.
“You sir, you pray in silence to God at great length. May I ask why?” Lord Bradswellen felt this man at peace, and that his piety was in line with his own and also that he was hiding something.
“I merely wait for you to finish my Lord. I have to speak with you on a matter, yet to interrupt you would be an insult to both you and Alden.” James raised his head and looked to the man he was told would be here in prayer this afternoon. Sir Andellis looked to the cousin of Lord Savanno and smiled.
Cristoff stood and faced the foreign man, not sure whether he was mocking him or serious. “And what matter would you need to speak with me about inside the church? Tell me your name foreigner.” he was curious, on guard, and demanding, having had his fill of problems this day.
James stood and bowed to Cristoff. “I am Sir James Andellis, Knight of Chazzrynn. I come to you here for it is safe and sacred ground. I was sent by Lord Knight Errant Savanno Lisario and Kalzarius to beg your assistance.”
“My assistance? What could they possibly need me for?” Lord Bradswellen was turning his head, noting that this man was serious, and watched for anyone listening in. There was no one, so he continued. “This had better be on the level, Sir James, for I am not in the mood for games today, even from my cousin at court. Speak.”
“There is much to say, perhaps as we prepare your men and supplies to head south to meet him?” James realized the time, and that if they did not leave soon the ride would take them long into the night.
“South to where? My men and supplies? What is this you speak of?” Cristoff was as curious and wanting to hear it all as he was disbelieving in any true validity of the man before him.
James reached in his beltpouch and produced the solid gold feathered cross and chain he had been given, handing it to Cristoff. “Lord Savanno told me to tell you that it was of the utmost importance, and not to leave here without you my lord. My friends and I carry a holy relic that we have been hunted for, and Savanno is certain that the church-“
Cristoff began walking, knowing that this cross meant something more serious and dangerous than any messenger could explain. He thought back to when he had given this to Rosana, the young Caberran princess he had been fond of many years ago. His mind raced to a time when the wars were raging and Rosana had eyes only for Savanno and she had given him the cross of his to wear after their secret wedding. It was a secret that despite her arranged marriage to the young King of Harlaheim, the three of them had kept quiet for nearly two decades. Both men had loved the young woman, but she only had heart for his cousin. It was long ago, yet Cristoff knew that this cross was a symbol of the secrecy beyond any kingdom or duty, and one that he had to answer, for his cousin and friend who had married the woman he also loved all those years ago. As his heart yearned for years before he had met his wife Isabella, Cristoff knew that the arranged marriage of Rosana to Richmond the Second had deeply hurt his cousin. For Savanno to call on Cristoff in such fashion and bring to bear their old feud must mean dire circumstances indeed.
“Come with me James Andellis, to Bradswellen Keep, and tell me everything.” he tucked the feathered cross in his beltpurse, and marched out of L’Avia Sangrit Cathedral.
James kept in step to the lord’s side, knowing that whatever the token from Savanno meant, it had worked. The Knight of Chazzrynn told Cristoff everything he knew, trusting the fellow man of God.
Exodus II:III
Tower of Kalzarius, Harlaheim
“Mysterious says the man with knowledge, strange says the nonbeliever, heresy speaketh the old, yet truth be told from the lips of those who have seen the light of God.” –Tarumin, Saint of Arouland, spoken to the standing armies as the great flood western waters rose to drown the inquisition legions of Altestan that had surrounded him at the hour of his ascension. Circa 64 B.C.
Cilano led the troupe far below the ground floor of the tower, opening secret passages with arcane words and verse. Hidden stairwells, illusory walls, and doors in the solid stone opened at his whim as he was well trained in the mysterious machinations of his home. The tall blonde wizard of many years waited for the others, hoping Kalzarius would be here soon. Many protective spells and magicks had to be in place inside and outside the tower grounds to ward against the siege; the siege that would inevitably come as the old master had sent the silent alarms throughout the entire structure. Pulsing orange light flickered from every torch sconce, every candle, and a faint hum could be felt to anyone inside. The tower of Kalzarius was preparing.
“How much farther wizard?” Saberrak the gray huffed, having trouble fitting in some of the smaller passages and stairwells. He rationed that they were not thinking of escaping minotaurs when this route was built.
“Fear not, Saberrak, we are almost there. Soon, you will be on the outside once more.” Cilano waited for the massive horned warrior to pass him into the long forgotten tomb of Harlaheim.
The open chambers were grand and full of statues and crypts to the nobility of a past millennia. Since the Ante Delunum, when the flood receded and the Agarian calendar was changed and Tarumin was canonized a saint; this ancient mausoleum had been all but lost and abandoned. There were few in the new age that held on to the teachings and histories of kings from Batras Catasylum; the age before the great deluge that altered the known world and set Altestan and Agara even further apart. Cilano and Kalzarius had spent many an hour down here in study and memory of the past with but the ancient dead in their tombs to keep them company.
Shinayne kept to the shadows on the right of the chamber, admiring the glistening stones and gold inlays in the burial homes of ancient nobility. Azenairk followed her, softly whispering prayers to Vundren for safe passage through a realm of the dead underground. Saberrak and Savanno walked up the middle of the chamber, slowing their pace in hopes that Kalzarius would catch up quickly from his preparations for the siege. Gwenneth held her dark oak staff high, concentrating for the blink of an eye as soft yellow light poured from the wooden focus in her hand and illuminated the dark caverns under the city for all to s
ee.
“Wait there, wait there.” Kalzarius whispered loudly as he floated down the curving stairs into the ages old tomb. “Gwenneth Lazlette, dim your light some my child.”
Gwenne did as she was asked, still quiet and angry on the inside for not being able to stay longer with her old master. The others gathered close to the white robed wizard, black arcane designs of his robes shimmering in the low light of the underground cemetery. “Why must we leave now if your tower is so well guarded, Kalzarius?”
“It is Gwenne, it is, but this time, these years, things are different. The king has darker allies than his forefathers, the Cardinal is away leaving the Bishop to his dealings which you have seen are not in our favor. I fear this siege, should it occur, will be beyond what I have ever seen. I do not wish taking the chance of losing the scroll or any of you to petty politics of an unpopular king seeking to glorify his name by killing myself or Savanno.” he knew they could not understand, would not, but he had not the time to explain.
“Savanno? What does this have to do with him?” Lady T’Sarrin spoke up, not sure what, if any, tie there was to one that led the knights of the kingdom for the king. “Should the king not have your ear, my lord?”
“Not now, my lady, it is complicated.” the Lord Knight Errant bowed to the elf.
“Savanno, you will take them to the road, through the foothills of the Zuran Mountains. Follow it north, but before reaching Saint Tarumin, turn east toward Soujan Mountain. You know which peak I speak of, and there is no road to take you there. Send Cristoff to see me after you are safe, I will need his assistance and eyes at the king’s court if they indeed do lay siege to the tower.” Kalzarius handed Gwenneth a platinum ring with several inscriptions and small garnets upon it.
“What is this?” she held it to the light, feeling its arcane power and perfection.
“Something I crafted long ago, a ring that can absorb dark energies and transmit them into harmless arcane if held up and the proper words are spoken.”
“And the words are those written on the band?” Gwenneth put it on, its shape slimming to her finger with a red glow and resting to a perfect fit.
“Of course Gwenne, now take care. Remember, do not let anything happen to that scroll, any of you. I leave you in the safe keeping of the Lord Knight Errant. Seek Ansharr on the ancient peak as I have instructed. Tell her everything, she will understand. Farewell.” the old wizard handed Savanno an old steel key and bowed. He walked back through the undercity with Cilano, fearing what onslaught may already be occurring above ground.
“What is the key for, Lord Savanno?” Zen asked, interested in keys for some time now.
“The entrance to the tomb we are in, good priest. Once we are out of here, we head to the foothills and follow the-“ he noticed the minotaur, the dwarf, the elf, and even Gwenne had slowly surrounding him. Not threateningly, but as if they intended to get answers out of him. They had waited till Kalzarius and Cilano had gone.
“I apologize for any disrespect to your title, my lord. However, you sent our friend James to fetch your cousin in Saint Erinsburg and now you are leading us somewhere without Kalzarius or his men. You can see, perhaps, our suspicion. Whatever secrecy you are withholding from us has run its course, so out with it.” Lady T’Sarrin made no apologies beyond that, and motioned for Saberrak, Zen, and Gwenne to be ready. Her hands on her blade hilts, her aquamarine eyes stared into the deep brown eyes of the Lord Knight Errant of Harlaheim, a serious stare that would demand answers.
Savanno wanted to lie, felt it for the first time since his youth. He could talk his way out or lean on his title, yet he stopped himself, feeling his conscience at odds with all that was going on. “There is no time Shinayne, we can talk later about such-“
Her blades out in a flash, the curved elven shortblade at his throat as his hand went for his rapier. Her longblade was on his wrist, and should he move for his weapon, the elven swordswoman had no remorse in cutting him. “I do not want to hurt you, just see that my friends and I are safe. I need, we need to trust you. So again, Lord Savanno, out with it.”
“Very well.” he lowered his arm and backed up a step from the elf’s weapons, backing into the chest of the gray gladiator. “King Richmond not only wants your scroll, he desires power over myself and Kalzarius. His rule is weak, and he seeks to discredit or be rid of us one way or another. He knows the old wizard and I are friends and are against the bishop. He sided with the church for political reasons that, unfortunately, you are now caught in. And he is suspicious of the queen and I. He will stop at nothing now, and I feel we need-“
“Wait just wait. Wait a moment my lord. Does he have reason to be suspicious?” Shinayne stared at him, to test the man’s honesty.
Savanno stared back at her. “Yes. And now he thinks he has proof. I am sorry you are all in this, but now, we have no choice but to leave and let the dust settle a bit.”
“So you are sleeping with the queen? Wonderful! I have to leave the tower because our ally in this is committing-“ Gwenne was interrupted with a raised voice.
“I am not committing adultery! Rosana is my wife from long before she came to this kingdom. Her father, the King of Caberra, would not ever let her marry anyone less than a one-day king, so we married in secret.” Savanno’s face was red, staring at Gwenneth, then the others. “If I could get her out of Castle L’Herrim, I would. If they see me, I am a dead man. By the time I reach Saint Erinsburg, someone else will have my title, my keep, my men, and all I hope is that Kalzarius can get her out safely and meet me. So I go with you because I swore to, for I believe in you and I know what I saw and felt in that tower with the scroll of Annar. For right now, I would much rather rescue my wife from that bastard child on the throne.”
Silence in the gloom of the ancient mausoleum of royalty far underground, there was not a sound. Each of them looked to one another, and at the lord in front of them. They rested their arms from their weapons, and let him walk toward the entrance to the outside.
“Well then, my lord, I believe that will answer our questions for now. Please, lead on.” Shinayne felt for the man, and could sense his longing heart and honor. She knew how that felt, and wished it upon no one else. Saberrak, the priest, and the wizard followed the two in front. They all smiled behind the lord’s back, knowing he was probably in deeper danger than they were. The light from afternoon sunlight beamed in as Savanno turned the key and pulled the old stone door. Saberrak helped, as the human man of some years now was having difficulty.
“Bet if this was the queens door it would not be so heavy, would it?” the minotaur snorted jokingly.
“Not funny Saberrak the gray… not funny.” Savanno laughed anyway, his face red as they pried their way to the outside world. The gray minotaur and the lord gave one more heave, sending the door open to full length. They shielded their eyes from the intense sun that was escaping through a few clouds for just a moment or two.
Azenairk Thalanaxe walked outside, admiring the forested foothills and the small mountain range in the near distant east. It had been a trek of almost an hour under the tower and city to get here, but well worth it for the dwarf who had been waiting to get far away from the dangerous politics of Harlaheim. His rusty iron box in his pouch reminded him of his purpose and promise every time he felt it. He walked into the diminishing sunlight as the clouds smothered them once more, and took in a breath of fresh moist air. Zen waited for Saberrak and the lord to close the stone door to the tomb. “This is much more to my liking here, let’s be off then.”
Young Lazlette focused for a moment, sensing the lack of anything arcane in the area, and followed the priest. Despite her desire to learn from the tomes of Kalzarius, her mood improved greatly with the sense of more travel, and meeting an ancient dragon. Gwenne had read much of the histories of dragons and knew that some had gifts in the arcane that no human could possibly access. Her desire for more knowledge, forbidden, lost, or otherwise, drove her will to find the good in the upc
oming journey, though her sour mood was still visible.
Lord Savanno marched toward the old dirt road past the first foothill to the east, the road to the Mission of Saint Tarumin. The elven noblewoman and the gray minotaur close behind him, Lord Lisario thought of his queen, his wife, and prayed silently for Alden’s grace. He prayed for James and Cristoff, that they had met and all was as he hoped it would be, God willing. “Only a few hours here then we turn north toward Soujan Mountain. It will be dark by then, but my cousin Cristoff will meet us with supplies and men if James succeeded. Once we get you to this, Ansharr, safely, in a few days Cristoff and I will leave for Saint Erinsburg to meet with Kalzarius. You will be most welcome there, should your travels-“
“Ambush!” Shinayne pushed the lord behind a tree as arrows whistled through the evening air by the dozens. Her keen elven ears had heard the bowstrings in the forest and the slightest footsteps ahead in the bend of the muddy road. Her blades were out in less than a second and she took cover behind the tree she had just shoved Savanno behind, her body shielding his.
Another volley of arrows descended at the group, this time met by a shimmering clear barrier of arcane force from Gwenneth Lazlette. The magical wall halted most of the arrows, save the few that deflected off of tree branches and far outside the boundaries of the immense protective shield. The whinnying of horses and battle charged footsteps of many human soldiers trampled the silence of the hilled forest road. Gwenne counted four on horseback and four times that on foot with rapiers drawn on a downhill run toward them. Her protective warding, easy as it was for her to maintain, would not stop a man from walking through it, only smaller objects such as the arrows being fired from the hidden archers.
The Exodus Sagas: Book II - Of Dragons And Crowns Page 8