by Jon Bender
When his wits returned, it wasn’t hard to establish that he was still in Torbin’s house. Sitting up was an adventure, his abdomen twisting in pain at being used to lift his torso. Every breath hurt, but it was all just a reminder that he was still alive. From the last thing he remembered, that was not something he would have expected. Finally getting his legs over the side, he saw that he was not alone in the room. A priest he did not recognize was slumped in a high-backed chair. At first, Keller thought him to be asleep, but the man did not stir nor did his chest rise with breath. Standing slowly, he walked over to the robed man and touched his shoulder confirming he was dead. Inspecting the corpse more closely, he couldn’t find any obvious cause of death. Perhaps it had been more of the pollen created by Torbin.
A dead priest of Or’Keer instantly put him on guard, and he drew on the shadows around him for their power. The effort was more than his weakened body could take, nearly causing him to fall over. Releasing the energy was just as staggering, and without it, he felt as vulnerable as a newborn kitten. Still, he could not remain in the room without knowing what was going on. Perhaps this house had been another trap set by the traitors and there had been more than just Torbin waiting. But if that was the case, why was he still alive? There was only one way to find out.
Shuffling to the only door, he turned the handle slowly to reduce the chance of anyone hearing. Cracking it only slightly, he peeked out to find an empty hall. With no one in sight, he used the wall to support his weight as he stepped out and began making his way to the landing. Coming out into the main hall, he passed the place where the two soldiers had been impaled by vines. It looked like someone had hacked the plants away and removed the bodies. Moving on, he heard voices up ahead on the landing and slowed his pace. Peeking around the corner, relief flowed over him at seeing four soldiers wearing chainmail and the black tabard depicting Or’Keer’s form – the same soldiers who had been downstairs when Torbin had attacked. Stepping out, he drew the soldiers’ attention who moved to aid him.
“His Holiness Benkt said you shouldn’t be out of bed, Magus,” one of the men said, taking Keller’s arm over his shoulder and trying to lead him back to the bedroom.
“I’m fine,” Keller said, ignoring the fact that he needed help just to stand. “How long have I been out?”
“A few hours, Magus,” the soldier said.
That was good news. At least he hadn’t lost much time. “Take me to Benkt.” Now that he knew he was safe, he wanted to know what had happened. Was Torbin dead or did he escape, and who was the dead priest in the room?
Thankfully, the soldier was there to help him down the stairs. Most of the thick vines had been cut away to carve a path, but much of the wood had been destroyed making the steps hazardous. Reaching the bottom, he noticed more soldiers who had not been with them talking amongst themselves. Through the open door, he could see even more milling about the garden or relaxing in the shade. The solider half carried him to the formal dining room where he found his group talking when they noticed his arrival. The scene caused him to remember what had happened when he found Torbin and Seldon in that hall. Whatever had transpired between them, the soldier had survived unscathed.
“You idiot!” Benkt shouted, climbing to his feet a little unsteadily, his pinched face screwed up in an angry glare that promised punishment. “I told you he was not to be disturbed.”
Keller raised his hand delaying any further reprimand of the soldier, though he did find it odd that the priest was showing so much concern for his wellbeing.
“It was my choice,” he said, pulling his arm free and grabbing onto the back of an empty chair. Very carefully, he pulled it out and sat down. The relief of being off his feet reminded him of how weak he truly was.
Benkt grunted and looked back to the soldier. “Go into the kitchen and find something for him to eat.”
Keller was about to protest, but the mention of food caused his stomach to growl. “So, what happened?” he asked instead, looking at the three men in turn, his eyes lingering on Seldon a little longer than the others.
“Torbin is dead,” Taft began as Benkt sat back down.
Keller turned to Benkt and saw how exhausted he looked. The fight with the green mage must have taken a lot out of him. “Good work,” he said to the priest. “It’s rare for one of the brotherhood to stand alone against a mage and win.”
The three men looked confused. “We didn’t kill him. You did,” Benkt said.
“Your magic burned through him, the walls behind, and damn near killed a servant in the next house,” Taft added.
Keller tried to remember, but all that came back was the pain that had racked his body once he had inhaled the pollen. It didn’t matter. Torbin was dead, removing another threat to Or’Keer’s plan. “What about the dead brother in my room?”
“He died saving your life,” Benkt said. “When we got to you, you were already close to death. I’m not sure you weren’t already. In that moment, Or’Keer spoke to me and my brothers nearby. He commanded that you be saved. The three of us prayed over you and were granted more power than we have ever felt before, enough that one of us died in channeling it.”
Keller absorbed that information as the soldier returned with a plate of bread and cheese for him. Healing was not easily granted to the priesthood. Or’Keer was a young god yet, and he did not use his power wastefully. It disturbed him that a loyal servant had to die to save his life, but it was not for him to question the will of his god. He had a purpose for Keller, he could only do everything in his power to ensure that the brother’s sacrifice wasn’t wasted.
“What of the woman we found. Where is she?”
“Dead as well,” Taft said. “Whatever disease she suffered from ran its course.”
Keller did not know for sure, but he suspected that she had been Torbin’s wife. He must have gotten word to flee as the others had, but she had looked too sick to be moved. The man had stayed and risked his life to be with her in their home during her final moments. Even as a traitor, Keller could respect and even praise his choice.
“Very well. Benkt, return to the temple where we are holding Elitha and see if any more information had been discovered. Wait there for me to join you. Taft, have a carriage brought here for me.”
Keller was not yet ready to make the walk back to the estate, but there was still the matter of repaying his debt to Hailey. The two men stood to carry out his commands, Taft bringing a fist to his chest in salute before leaving.
“What about me?” Seldon asked as they left, speaking for the first time since Keller had arrived.
Keller looked at the soldier trying to weigh the man. How had he survived the encounter with the mage? Torbin could have killed him with the vines he had used to ensnare the soldier, but he didn’t. It was possible that he didn’t want to waste the time with Keller behind him, and had settled on immobilization instead. “What happened with Torbin before I arrived? What were you talking about?”
“He surprised us and killed two men right off. We ran, but were cornered.” There was a long pause before he continued. “I was stalling for you and the others to arrive. I knew I didn’t stand a chance against him alone, so I was begging for my life.”
Keller looked hard into his eyes, and could find no trace of deception. Perhaps paranoia was getting the better of him again, a blunder that happened commonly among the priesthood during a purge. He could not help but wonder how many people, innocent of betrayal to Or’Keer, had been killed because of it. His suspicion could be the result of his brush with death and how exhausted he felt. There was no proof that Seldon was a traitor, and he was not going to condemn him without it.
“You and Taft will join me for something I have to do. I am not at my strongest and may need your swords,” he said. He was sure Hailey would not change her mind, but there was still a chance her agreement had only been given to create an opportunity for escape. If that was the case, he would need the two men’s help.
&n
bsp; “I serve Or’Keer, the temple, and you faithfully. I would never betray our only hope for the peace and security of all people,” Seldon said.
Keller nodded, but words were not enough to remove his suspicion completely. “I don’t have reason to believe otherwise,” he said honestly, which seemed to release some of the tension in Seldon’s shoulders. “Would you mind bringing me something to wash this down with?”
Seldon hurried to obey and brought back a tall glass of wine, leaving Keller to eat alone. Even chewing was a chore, but the hunger he felt would not allow him to stop until the plate was clean. By then, he was feeling better as some of his strength was beginning to return. He had never suffered an injury bad enough to warrant healing by a priest, but it was evident that the process took a toll.
As he was considering whether his stomach could handle seconds, Taft returned. “The carriage is waiting outside on the street when you’re ready,” he said.
Keller stood, and was forced to grab the table for support. His strength was nowhere near returned, but once on his feet, he could walk unassisted. Outside, the soldiers stood and saluted as he passed, continuing to watch as he exited through the gate with Taft and Seldon only a step behind. Climbing into the cabin was painful and caused his breath to quicken. Still he declined Taft’s help to avoid showing weakness. Word could get back to those who would take any opportunity to kill him, but there was also the matter of his pride not allowing him to be aided like an invalid.
“To the temple?” Taft asked, once he was settled across from Keller.
“No, I have business at the estate first,” he said.
Taft nodded and leaned out the window to relay the instructions to the driver. The ride over the cobblestone streets was bumpier than Keller would have liked, but it was far better than riding on horseback or trying to walk the distance in his current condition. He was content to travel in silence while staring out the window to watch the buildings they passed. There were more people out than he had seen earlier, but not nearly as many as there should have been. When anyone on the street got a look inside their carriage and saw two soldiers of Or’Keer inside, they would quicken their steps and move out of sight. He sighed every time it happened. Why could they not understand that Or’Keer and his servants would not persecute the innocent? That they had nothing to fear if they kept to the path and offered homage to the Dark God? Occasionally he would catch Seldon looking at him out of the corner of his eye, the man seeming to want to break the silence, but never doing so. Eventually they reached the gates of the estate, and he told the driver to wait for their return. Inside, the two men began heading for the building where Prasil usually conducted city business, but quickly realized Keller was heading for the jail and fell in behind his slow steps.
“Bring me the woman I spoke to this morning,” he told the guard, who had escorted him to her cell. The man saluted and moved off to collect her.
“May I ask what we’re doing?” Seldon said.
“We are going to remove a threat to the security of this city while gaining another follower of Or’Keer,” he replied. There was no reason to explain further.
It took only a few minutes for the guard to return with Hailey, her hands bound with iron manacles. “Remove those,” Keller said.
The guard hesitated at his command. It took Keller only a furrowing of the brow to get the man moving. Pulling a key from his belt, the guard removed the manacles and stepped back with them in hand.
“Thank you,” Hailey said.
Keller nodded. I hope you had time to consider what we spoke of, and have done as I suggested.”
“I did,” she said.
“Good. Let’s be going then.”
Turning, he saw the confused looks on Taft’s and Seldon’s faces but ignored them. He led them back outside, never even bothering to looking back at Hailey. But his lack of concern over her did not stop the two men from walking to either side of her as their prisoner. The ride through the city was more uncomfortable than the first had been. Not because of the bouncing carriage on his sore body, but how the two men never let their eyes slip from Hailey. Like they were watching a poisonous snake curled and ready to strike.
They rode for several minutes in silence until Hailey finally spoke, her usually firm and confident voice now laced with doubt. “Do you think Or’Keer will accept me?”
In truth, Keller did not know. He had only made two requests of the Dark God over the years. Both had been granted without hesitation or condition, but what he was about to ask was something else entirely. “Did he answer your prayers?”
Hailey stared out the window as she spoke. “For a moment, I thought I felt something stir within me, but it was gone so quickly that I can’t be sure.”
“What did you feel?”
“Like I was being watched. No, more than that, like I wasn’t alone inside my own mind. That perhaps my worth was being weighed.”
“We will find out shortly,” he said. What she spoke of sounded like the Dark God had taken notice of her, but there was no guarantee that he had found her worthy. If Or’Keer had gazed into her and decided the opposite, Keller knew that he would not be able to keep her from the conversion chamber.
By the time they reached the temple, a massive stone structure with high spires, he was feeling hungry and wanting to find a place to rest. With nothing to keep his mind active, he had almost nodded off several times on the short trip. The strength he had gained from the little sleep and food had already departed.
Stopping in front of the impressive building that had taken nearly ten years to complete, he looked out the carriage’s window to the hundreds of bodies pressed tightly together before it. There were always people outside the temple, and today was no different. In fact, there were more than Keller had expected. Likely they were there to present themselves before the priests to show loyalty, their presence motivated by the purge and fear of being labeled a heretic.
Taft and Seldon were the first to step down, followed by Hailey, the men each grabbing one of her arms. Keller did not fault them for their caution. If she wanted, the crowd offered the opportunity to run into the mass of people and lose them, though he did not think she would try. Upon seeing two soldiers with a prisoner, the people made room for them at the bottom of the deep, wide steps leading up to the temple doors. He could already hear whispers of traitor and conversion as they took the first step. As Keller placed a foot on the street, those whispers changed to chosen. The voices became louder and edged with awe or fear. He did not know how it had happened, but the city had learned who he was.
The nearest people to him backed into those behind, trying to give him even more room than Taft and Seldon had received. All eyes were on him, a familiar feeling that he had grown accustomed to not having to deal with since leaving Etear’a. It had been nice to walk through streets without drawing stares, but that was over now.
Raising his chin and putting on an air of authority, he willed his body to stand straight with shoulders back, even though all he wanted to do was hunch and shuffle forward. It was important that they see Or’Keer’s most powerful weapon as strong. In times like these, the honest and devout people needed to know that there was nothing to worry about, that the servants of Or’Keer held no weakness in them.
The twenty or so steps seemed like climbing a mountain, but he made the last without having to pause for breath. The six guards at the top pulled open the massive, black doors allowing them entry inside. It was a relief to step into the dark chamber, away from the heat and eyes of hundreds watching him. He looked about at the empty space with its thick pillars supporting a massive domed ceiling. The chamber was used by the common people for daily worship led by a priest. When there was no longer enough room inside, priests of the lower tiers would go outside to lead the rest in prayers. There were only a few torches mounted to the pillars, but enough to cast light on the painting above – a depiction of the great god Or’Keer surrounded by silver flame, his eyes an empty voi
d staring down on them in judgment. He knew that whoever had painted the mural had stood before the Dark God in person, having experienced the sensation for themselves.
Stepping out from the shadows, a priest with almost completely white hair greeted them. Keller remembered him from the visit that morning as the oldest member of the brotherhood within the temple, and one of those vying for the position of Pontiff.
“Good afternoon, Chosen One. Have you brought us one to be shown the path?” he asked, eyeing Hailey who was still being held.
Keller saw her shiver slightly, but she had good enough judgment to remain quiet. “I sent his holiness Benkt ahead. Do you know where I can find him?” he asked.
“I can take you to him,” the priest said turning. There was disappointment evident in his voice, but Keller ignored it.
With the Pontiff dead, the purge offered an opportunity for priests of the first tier to show strength to their peers. In the end, a vote would be held to determine who would take the position. Only those who had gained confidence from their brothers or cowed them would have a chance.
The priest led them deeper into the temple passing several more murals on the walls. Some showed Or’Keer’s birth from the shadows. A being of unimaginable power stepping out from darkness as men prostrated themselves before him. Others showed his forces fighting the leaders of the eastern kingdoms in large battles, at the end of which he stood triumphant over a burning city. More still showed the future he foretold. The old gods being destroyed by his power, and prosperity for all when mankind was finally free of tyranny. Keller felt hope at seeing these. It was a prediction of how the world could be if they followed Or’Keer’s path. A foretelling that all people could throw off the yoke of gods and men who would see them oppressed.
The priest led them up higher into the temple only to take them down again below the street. It was a path Keller was familiar with, one that took them near the conversion chambers. It was no surprise as he had sent Benkt to check on the thief Elitha. By now he should have had time to gather whatever information the woman had provided. The white-haired priest made several turns before they found themselves before a small door. Opening it, he led them into a lamp lit room with large pillows scattered about the floor. The space was called a sanctuary, used only by priests who wished to pray or contemplate their servitude to Or’Keer. There were only three people present: a young priest who could not have been more than nineteen tucked into a corner and mumbling in prayer, a servant who stood silently near a small table on which bottles of wine and glasses had been placed, and finally Benkt who sat closer to the center with legs crossed, hands in his lap, and head bowed. Crouched before the man was a smaller shadow beast similar to the one he had created in Torbin’s house. This one however, was no taller than ten inches with long arms ending in wicked looking claws. Shadows began coalescing next to the beast and quickly formed into another identical to the first.