by Tracey Alley
minute,” Bjorn hissed at Gunnar, in what the knight guessed was intended to be a whisper but was nevertheless as carrying as Bjorn’s usual tones, “We can’t just put him on a horse. How do we know he won’t just ride away?”
“I thought I was being escorted to an audience with the King?” Michael said to Bjorn, “Why should I ride away from such a privilege?”
The knight turned away from the spluttering Bjorn and gravely thanked the boat’s captain and crew for a swift journey before jumping clear from the still boat to the grassy shore. Glancing in Gunnar’s direction Michael thought he detected a gleam of a suppressed smile on the young soldier’s face. Without waiting for Bjorn to direct him any further the Grand Knight walked confidently to the waiting horse, a large dirty brown mare, and mounted quickly.
“Well,” he said, sweeping one hand before him in an obvious invitation to Bjorn to mount, “lead on.”
Michael watched, a small smile hidden by his long moustache, as Bjorn reluctantly followed his orders and mounted his horse. Jogging his horse forward the Grand Knight drew level with the frowning Bjorn and gave the young soldier a paternal pat on the shoulder.
“You know if you had waited to meet me at the quay you would have saved yourself and your men at least a days ride and you wouldn’t have anyone walking home either. Just something for you to think about for next time son,” Michael said giving him a cheery wave before moving forward, as though he were leading this pack of soldiers instead of being their virtual prisoner.
Lord Michael managed to maintain his outward appearance of smiling, nonchalant calm throughout the afternoons ride, yet inwardly he was furious. It galled him to be taken prisoner, however politely, but he would not throw his life away needlessly by any attempted escape. Michael knew that he would one day make the ultimate sacrifice of Belenus and die for the cause but his death would be an honorable one, not one that came from fighting those he had sworn to serve. He would not cause the deaths of even one of these young soldiers who were only following orders, not even the officious Bjorn, so resigned himself to the afternoon ride. Ulrich was another matter and he vowed to Belenus that the arrogant prince would pay for his presumption.
Bad enough that Ulrich had usurped his father’s role as High King but to move against the Knights of Belenus, sworn to Saxenburg's service was far worse. The Knights of Belenus had been inviolate for eons, ever since the foundation of The Tears of Belenus, which legend said had been founded by Belenus after the War of the Gods, the conflict where Belenus had become the chief deity of all Kaynos’ gods.
It was the very sanctity of the Knighthood that allowed the servants of Belenus to be effective at all. The people of Kaynos knew that regardless of their race, profession or even their religious creed, they could find sanctuary, healing or assistance from any one of the Knights of Belenus. It was the entire foundation that the Knighthood was built on. When the warrior monks of the Black Lotus were expelled from their original home in the deserts of Kemet for violation of Kemetian law due to their collection of arcane texts, it had been the Knights of Belenus who had found them a new home. Resettling the monks in the warren of caves dotted throughout the extinct volcano of the Castellan Mountains in Saxenburg.
When the High Elves of the Kingdom of Kodeshka had elected to open their borders to allow trade with the other Kingdoms of Kaynos it had been the Knights of Belenus that had facilitated that event. Helping the elves train envoys to travel throughout the land and using the Knights to spread the news among The Kingdoms. People came to the Knights because of their honesty, integrity and because they answered to no one but Belenus, despite being sworn to protect Saxenburg's royal family. That Ulrich would consider himself to be above the unspoken law of non-interference that had held for centuries beyond counting was utterly incomprehensible to Michael.
The question of how and why Ulrich had felt able to move against the Knights was one that preoccupied Michael's mind during the long ride to Saxenburg. Obviously Nexus’s suspicions that Ulrich was allied with the witch Shallendara were well founded. The Grand Knight doubted that Ulrich would dared make such a move without powerful allies behind him. Even so Ulrich's arrogance was astounding. Michael believed the most disturbing aspect of Ulrich's behavior was not even his alliance with Shallendara, but his usurpation of the throne. Ulrich either knew, or had strong reason to believe, that High King Erich would not be returning to Saxenburg, and that could mean only one thing. He hated to think it but he had to concede it was likely, even probable that Ulrich was responsible for King Erich’s disappearance.
The journey should only have taken a little over two days; however with Bjorn insisting on the many guards riding a circular perimeter around Michael the trip had taken nearly twice as long. It was late on the afternoon of the fourth day, with the Sapphire moon just beginning its ascent, when the towering white stone walls of Anglia city came into view.
Anglia was Saxenburg’s oldest city and had been the capital for almost a thousand years. Nestled against the only possible site for a harbor on the rugged eastern coastline the city was protected on all sides. To the north were sheer cliffs leading down to a treacherous inlet, the east was guarded by the vast expanse of the Eastern Sea and the huge stone walls guarded the southern and western gates into the city. Built on the highest point of the plain lands Anglia was an extremely easy city to defend.
As they rode towards the massive Horned Gate in the west wall of the city, Michael wondered if that was the reason why he had chosen to move the headquarters of The Tears of Belenus out of the city proper. Twenty years ago, when he had been elected Grand Knight, Michael had abandoned the elaborate and luxurious temple complex in Anglia and rebuilt the headquarters. It was now a much more modest group of buildings located a half days ride from the city on the plains where the inlet from the Eastern Sea became the Castellan River. The headquarters were now, as the god had intended them to be, open and inviting to all and any who required the services of the Knights.
Anglia in comparison, with its walls forty feet high and ten feet thick and the two enormous wooden gates, the Horned Gate they were approaching and the Hammer Gate in the south, with their wide reinforced bands of dwarven steel, was a veritable fortress, neither open nor inviting. Although with Ixlan under The Dark One’s control and only a day away across the Eastern Sea it had likely been prudent of Erich’s father, Vidar, to reinforce the city as he had.
As they rode through the great Horned Gate the knight noticed that Ulrich had made some extensive changes during his month long absence. While Saxenburg had long maintained a large standing army soldiers were not a common sight in the streets, at least not dressed for battle. Now everywhere Michael looked he saw soldiers, some guarding the gates, others walking the streets and the people seemed terrified of them. From what he could see Michael estimated that Ulrich had tripled the size of Anglia's army. That was evidence of very long-term planning.
Riding through the paved streets towards the palace Michael saw signs of other changes Ulrich’s reign had effected. The typically bustling streets of Anglia were unusually quiet, eerily reminiscent of the streets of Diablis in Ixlan after The Dark One had taken over. Normally at this early twilight hour, Anglia, indeed all of Saxenburg, like most of the cities in the northern parts of Kaynos, would still be busy and industrious. The marketplace and street vendors should still be trading and the people going about their business, often until the rise of the Ruby moon. Now, just after the Sapphire moon had risen, most of the marketplaces were closed, shutters were closed in people’s homes, even the inns and taverns had done little more than light the traditional travelers lamp, which always sat in the front window of any of these types of businesses.
As they drew closer to the Palace, situated in the centre of the city, Michael saw the most disturbing changes yet. Anglia’s large Palace complex was laid out in a diamond pattern. The Palace, home to the royal family and the seat of Saxenburg’s poli
tical power was located in the centre of the diamond with four smaller buildings forming the points of the diamond pattern. The Palace complex had only two entrances, one facing the south and the other facing west or to the rear of the Palace. Just inside the western entrance stood a small guardhouse, under High King Erich it was little more than a formality and manned by a single guard. Now there were at least six soldiers guarding the entrance that Michael could see and beyond that was a courtyard hidden from view of the bulk of the Palace complex.
This courtyard had once been used to house the Palace’s many hunting dogs, and to one side Michael could see that the dogs were still there, although they were now penned up in kennels lining the wall of the armory. Now Michael saw at once this space was being put to a very different use. An executioner’s block, bearing myriad chips from the axe and stained black with blood, stood proudly in the very centre. The dark stain spreading out around it confirming Michael's worst fears that once again heads were being taken with regularity in Anglia. Something that had not been practiced in Saxenburg for centuries. Dismounting in the Palace