“Hello, Anwyn,” a voice said from behind her.
Startled, Anwyn leapt to her feet and prepared to shift into a panther or other dangerous predator. But she sighed in relief when she saw the source of the voice. “Oh, Bridgette, you nearly made my heart come out of my chest you scared me so badly.”
“I have a tendency to do that,” Bridgette replied, arms crossed.
“How did you get here?” Anwyn asked. “The druids wouldn’t have let you get in here if they’d seen you.”
“You answered your own question. They didn’t see me.”
“You mean you…,” she struggled to find the right word, “shifted all this way from Shar’Hai. How long did that take you?”
“Less than the turn of a glass, I would estimate.”
“Oh, good. What brings you here?”
“It wasn’t to vacation in this…quaint…place. Jason sent me.”
“Jason? Why?”
“You ask a lot of questions. He’s in the Citadel with the king of Allyria. They’ve agreed to send their knights to aid us. The merchants are being dicks,” she paused at Anwyn’s expression. “Excuse my language. They’re being meanie heads,” she rolled her eyes, “and not cooperating, so Jason came up with this idea to have me speak on the king’s behalf with the king of Gallea.”
Anwyn gave Bridgette a blank stare. “Speak on the king’s behalf? Have you spoken with the king of Allyria?”
“No.”
“Then how…?”
Bridgette tapped her head. “Our bond, mind meld, whatever the heck you want to call it. It’s how Jason communicated with me in Shar’Hai and it’s how I’ll speak on the king’s behalf. The king of Allyria will speak with Jason, Jason will relay it through our bond to me and I’ll speak the words to the king of Gallea. Can you get me an audience?”
Anwyn thought for a moment, her mind racing. Long distance, instantaneous communication? Who would imagine such a thing being possible? “I will have to ask the druid council and they will approach the king of Gallea.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Bridgette asked. “Let’s go.” She turned and opened the door to Anwyn’s room. Outside, the pair of guards stationed there for Anwyn’s “protection” stood guard. They stared at her, dumbfounded as to how an intruder could breach Anwyn’s room. “Oh, you have guards…how nice.”
Chapter 23
“You stand before King Alfred of Gallea and his council. Please state your names,” the chamberlain to King Alfred said.
Anwyn cleared her throat. “I am Anwyn, of the druids of Etinvar. With me is Bridgette, from the city of Tar Ebon.”
“And what business do you have with my king and his council?” the chamberlain asked.
Anwyn braced herself. “Bridgette is here to negotiate on behalf of the king of Allyria.”
King Alfred, who had not yet spoken and whose eyes appeared dull, narrowed his eyes and frowned. The eight council members began whispering among themselves.
“This woman knows the mind of the king of Allyria?” the chamberlain asked.
“I do,” Bridgette affirmed. After no one spoke, she went on. “I have a magical bond with a counterpart in Allyria. He is waiting at the king’s side to relay your words to the king through our bond and I will relay the king’s words to you verbatim.”
“How do we know that your words indeed come from the king of Allyria?” King Alfred said at last.
“Ask me a question only the king of Allyria would know. I will relay it to him and provide his reply.”
“What is the name of my sister, whom was offered to the king of Allyria in marriage many years ago.”
Bridgette closed her eyes. Several moments later she began to speak. “Clarice. She was fourteen when we met. She traveled with your father, King Leopald, to Allyria. It was the last time your people visited our lands. After I rejected her hand skirmishes increased on the borders of our land. I do not regret not accepting her hand in marriage, but I do regret the animosity it caused.” Bridgette opened her eyes.
The room fell silent as King Alfred processed the King of Allyria’s words. “I am satisfied that your sorcery is true and that I speak with the King of Allyria. We may proceed with this negotiation.”
Bridgette closed her eyes again and after another brief pause began to speak. “Honored king of Gallea, I, King Ichabod, greet you in the name of House Atrayan of Allyria. I speak with you today to address a matter of grave importance. Have you been briefed on the siege of Tar Ebon?”
“I am aware,” King Alfred replied.
“Then you are aware of the dire nature the people of Tar Ebon find themselves in. The queen of Tar Ebon has requested the help of Allyria. We have gladly agreed but find ourselves unable to send our knights by sea. This leaves only the path by land, which runs through your lands. I have come to beseech you to allow our army to pass through your lands on the way to Tar Ebon.”
“What guarantee do we have that you will not invade our lands with your army while you are ‘passing through’?” King Alfred asked.
“You have only my word,” King Ichabod replied through Bridgette. “I will be traveling in the company of an ambassador from Tar Ebon by the name of Jason Thorpe. Our lances will remain stowed in our supply wagons as a show of good will, and we agree to an armed escort of as many soldiers as you see fit. We must pass through your woods; the fate of Tar Ebon could depend on it.”
“I agree to your request, King Ichabod,” King Alfred said. “Your army may assemble at my borders five days hence. My own forces will meet you at the border and lead you through our lands. Any misdeeds by your soldiers will be met with hostility from my forces. Once you are into the lands of Tar Ebon, our forces will move ahead of your army toward Tar Ebon.”
“Thank you so much,” King Ichabod replied through Bridgette. “We agree to your terms and will be at your border five days hence.” With that, Bridgette opened her eyes. “He’s gone.”
After leaving the king’s chambers, Anwyn asked Bridgette “Will you be staying?”
Bridgette shook her head. “No, I must return to Shar’Hai and go with my rangers and the Sagami army. Take care, Anwyn.”
“You as well,” Anwyn said. Bridgette began to fade to mist and moments later was gone.
Chapter 24
Bridgette shifted out of the shadow realm in her rooms at the inn, performed a routine check for any intruders and, finding none, laid down on the bed and released a heavy sigh. Mentally communicating was exhausting in and of itself, but mentally communicating and trying to speak was twice as difficult. She fell asleep at once.
She awoke the next morning and changed out of her clothing that smelled of smoke. Hopefully the servants would have it laundered before the army departed. She departed her rooms and went down to the kitchens. The servants, having heard she was away, were surprised to see her, but prepared a plate of food for her. She found a note from the ranger squad that the army was leaving that morning and they were with the main group. The captain said he knew she would catch up to them. Bridgette smiled at that. She went back upstairs, regretting not getting her clothes laundered before leaving, packed her things and departed.
She made her way down the street toward the main thoroughfare but found the path blocked by a swarm of people cheering. Bridgette stood on the tips of her toes to see over the heads of people in front of her. A procession of Sagami soldiers marched down the street, complete with men riding camels and horses, wearing light cloaks to protect them from the sun and sand of the desert they called home and bearing samurai swords, bows and lances. Bridgette admired their discipline almost as much as their fighting prowess. She considered joining them in the procession but knew she would stand out. Instead, she decided to take an alternate route.
She walked south to a parallel street that would take her to the eastern wall and began following it. She and her entourage had only been in the city for a short time and almost all her experiences had been between her inn and the palace. Her
new path took her past sights she hadn’t seen before. She stopped as something from her past intruded on her view.
Located in a clearing, with gardens and a fountain in front of it, was a cathedral. Not quite as grand as the cathedrals of Earth, but a cathedral nonetheless, with a steeple culminating in a wooden cross and cross-shaped windows. Bridgette had never seen a cathedral on Tar Ebon before. In fact, she had never even heard of anyone practicing any Earth-based religions. Intrigued and enraged, Bridgette approached the building and entered.
The interior made the church seem like it had been lifted from Earth and brought to that location. The church sported pews, a pulpit and a cross depicting the crucifixion of Jesus among other design items typical to cathedrals. Walking up the center aisle, Bridgette approached the altar but did not kneel.
“So, there are suckers everywhere it seems,” she said aloud. “Believers in a God that doesn’t exist.”
“What makes you say such a thing, child?” a male voice behind her said.
Bridgette spun, her heart pounding. An older man with gray hair and a beard stood before her. How had sneaked up on her? Surely she would have heard his robes brushing on the stone of the cathedral or his slippered feet whispering as they carried him toward her. “Who are you?”
“I am that I am,” he said. He formed a tired smile. “Why do you deny your God’s existence?”
Bridgette snorted. Typical priest, giving cryptic answers. He couldn’t even give his name! “Because if God existed we wouldn’t be in the mess we are in right now. If God existed…” she trailed off.
“The bad things that happened to you would not have happened? Is that what you were going to say, child?”
“How did you…?” Bridgette shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. If God existed, he would be doing something about the Krai’kesh. He would wave his hand and,” she waved her hand in a circular motion as if she held a wand, “and poof them out of existence.”
The older man nodded. “Did it occur to you, child, that perhaps He already has done something?”
“No, it hasn’t. The things done to me cannot be undone. Where was God when I lay dying, my life blood draining from me moment by moment. Where was God then?” She shouted the last phrase, clenching her fists in frustration.
“Dying?” the gray-haired man asked. “Did you die, child?”
Bridgette rolled her eyes and gestured to her body. “Clearly not.”
“Yet still you doubt the power of your God? Who do you think kept you alive, child, when others would have died? Who do you think kept you sound in mind so that you would have the will to live?”
“I wanted to die!” Bridgette screamed, tears welling up. “Every night I prayed to God that He would let me die! Yet here I am.”
The older man cocked his head to the side. “So you being alive is proof that God does not exist? You just told me he was not there to save you.”
Bridgette felt her face warming. She didn’t have time to talk about this with some condescending priest. “You don’t understand. I was raised believing God was good, that he embodied love. Why would a god of love allow such a terrible thing to happen to me?”
“Tell me,” the older man began, “does the iron resent melting down to become a sword? Does it balk at the idea of becoming steel?”
“Swords aren’t sentient beings,” Bridgette snapped. “It can’t protest anything.”
“Correct. But what is the purpose of melting iron?”
Bridgette felt like she was being tricked. “To make a tool, or a weapon or a horseshoe or something.”
“Yes. And could the iron be used as a weapon if it were not melted down and hammered into the shape of a sword or,” his gaze turned down to her daggers, “a dagger?”
Bridgette shrugged. “Sure, if I wanted to bludgeon someone to death.”
The older man smiled kindly. “Yes, but it is not an effective weapon. So you see, the act of melting iron is not an act of hatred, it is an act of love by the blacksmith who is creating something new. Do you understand now, child?”
Bridgette looked to the side as she processed what he said. “You’re saying I’m like iron, and that God 'forged' me into a weapon?”
“Yes, child.”
“That’s bullshit,” Bridgette said. “I don’t buy it. I think you’re spouting nonsense to get me to believe in your God.”
“I speak only the truth, child. It is your choice to believe it or not.”
Bridgette shook her head. “Ok, so let’s say I buy this steaming pile of crap you just served me. I’m a weapon, forged by God for some unknown reason. What about the Krai’kesh? Are they a weapon forged by Him as well?
The older man closed his eyes. “The creatures you call the Krai’kesh are children of your God too, though they have lost their way. They have turned from the way of peace to the ways of war. They serve a dark god now. They seek to destroy their brothers and sisters and thus must be destroyed in turn.”
“Then why doesn’t the big guy just blow them up. I haven’t seen any evidence of God actually doing shit.”
“Where are you, child,” the old man waved an arm in a semi-circle at his side. “What world?”
Bridgette felt a shiver run up her spine. What would prompt a priest from Tar Ebon to ask such a question? “Who are you?” she demanded again.
“I have told you who I am, child, and I ask again, what world are you on? Are you on Earth?”
“No.”
“And why do you think you were brought here?”
“I don’t know.” Uncertainty entered Bridgette’s voice as realization began to dawn.
“You were brought here, my child, along with the others from Earth, to be the sword to fight the fallen ones. One alone cannot fight what comes, but many can. As you have passed through the crucible, so too will humanity pass through a crucible and become stronger, forged in the fire of their Lord’s love and power.”
Bridgette fell to her knees. “No.” She tried to deny the truth in front of her, tried to close her eyes against the reality facing her. “My child,” he had called her. That must mean…she opened her eyes. The older man…God…was gone. Bridgette looked around, but there was no one there.
“Please, come back! What am I supposed to do?” Bridgette called out.
“Can I help you, miss?” a younger man in his thirties asked as he came from a side room.
“The older man that was just here, who was he?”
The younger man adopted a confused look. “Older man? There was no older man here.”
“He was right there,” Bridgette pointed at the floor where He had stood.
“I’m sorry, miss, I didn’t see anyone matching that description come or go.”
***
The next morning Bridgette surveyed the gathered Sagami army. Thousands of warriors, all wearing brownish tan cloaks and many wearing samurai swords or bows on their backs formed disciplined lines. Some rode horses, but most were on foot.
Bridgette looked at Captain Osley. “Impressed?”
The captain returned her gaze. “Aye, m’lady. They’ll be a great asset against the Krai’kesh.”
Chapter 25
A week had passed since King Galvaroth had agreed, grudgingly, to come to Tar Ebon’s aid. Now, as Ashley watched, rank upon rank of men with pikes or crossbows marched behind their king.
Ashley looked at Leysa. “We will have you back with your people in no time.”
“I am grateful for your assistance,” Leysa replied, nodding. “Let us just hope the Krai’kesh are defeated by your forces so that I have a people to return home to.”
Chapter 26
Dawyn watched from atop Shadow as the Selucian army marched east. Long columns of swordsmen, archers and knights marched in cadence behind the banner of Selucia.
“Are you feeling well, sir?” Captain Ager asked.
“A little sore, Captain, but otherwise no further worse for wear. I am glad to be on the move at last.”
/> “Indeed sir, it feels good to ride again. Have you received any word from the other ambassadors?”
“Not yet, so we must pray they are successful.”
Chapter 27
John sat atop his horse and watched the might of Rovark stream south. Ahead lay the western woods, which would be the scenery all the way to Henry’s Crossing so as to avoid the Krai’kesh.
Thousands of horsemen had gathered over the course of two weeks, streaming in from all over Rovark. They bristled with spears, swords, axes and bows. Their lean horses stood in stark contrast to the larger but slower horses the rangers and John rode.
“What do you think?” Chen Choybalsan, the grand captain of the elite Rovarkian force known as the Wind Riders asked.
“I think the Krai’kesh are going to get their asses kicked,” Jason said with a smile.
Chen returned the smile with a toothy grin. “The ground will run red with their blood.”
“Uh, I’m not sure they bleed red dude, but I get your point.”
Chapter 28
Jason marveled at the display of grandeur before him. Thousands of knights in gleaming armor stretched as far as he could see in neat, disciplined rows. At their head rode Jason, Favio, the rangers of Tar Ebon, King Ichabod of Allyria and the king’s generals and commanders.
The king gave the signal to advance. Horns blew, the king’s banner was lifted and the knights of the Citadel began their journey to the Gallean Woods and, beyond that, Tar Ebon.
Chapter 29
“What in the name of the Founders are they doing?” Coryn asked in disbelief.
Clouds of dirt rose into the air as the Krai’kesh burrowed into the ground several hundred feet from the walls of Tar Ebon. The creatures had no tools, but instead appeared to carry the dirt in their mouths and deposit it a large pile.
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