The Three Swords (The Ways of Mages)

by Catherine Beery

  Savranious moved to silence her, but he wasn’t fast enough. The light came and peeled him off of her and flung him away. Jewel found herself embraced in the forgiving, healing light. Tears of awe mixed with the shame of her mistake.“I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry.”she sobbed endlessly as she fell to her knees.“I’m sorry I let him tempt me. I’m sorry I didn’t trust in You. I’m sorry…”

  Gentle hands lifted her chin and wiped away her tears.“Shhh, I forgive you.”Those soft words, spoken so genuinely and with such love, proved to be the balm that Jewel’s battered soul yearned for. Needed.“You are loved. Have always been loved.”The Voice continued.“And you will never be alone. You have never been.”

  “I know that…Now.”Jewel admitted. She looked up into the face of her Savior and Lord and found that He was smiling at her. If anyone ever asked her to describe Him afterward, she wouldn’t have been able to give a clear description. There were no words to give Him justice. He was who He was, who He had always been and what He would be.

  “Come, your family and friends are here to guide you back to yourself.”Jewel looked past Him and saw her family and newly found friends. The clearest one of the group was Terana. The young woman smiled and held a hand out to her.

  “NO!”Jewel had forgotten that Savranious was still there. She glanced back at him, clinging to her King. The Dark Kin was furious. His soulless eyes were burning with rage and hate. His long fingers were curled into claws. He pointed at her and she shrank away from him. She knew her Lord would keep her safe. She just wanted to be sure and keep every bit of herself in the light.“You cannot have her!”Savranious declared.“She is MINE! She gave herself to me!”The Dark Kin pointed out in a tone so full of rage that he was hissing. “You cannot just come here uninvited and steal what is not yours! Be gone and take your pathetic light with you!”

  Jewel’s jaw dropped. A Dark Lord was telling the Creator of Everything to get lost. It was ridiculous. Almost hilarious if it wasn’t so shocking. Granted, Savranious was a powerful being in his own right. A Dark Lord and a magic user. But God was…well, God is God. There was no competition. No comparison. God outranked the Dark Kin. God outranked everything. And yet, here was a Dark Kin trying to tell Him what to do…

  “Jewel is not yours, Nightmare. She has never been yours.”The Lord said simply. His calm response to the Dark Kin’s outburst caused Savranious to get both angrier and, if Jewel wasn’t mistaken, fearful.“Be gone from here.”The Lord continued with quiet authority. Savranious left. He just vanished. The Dark Lord could scream and rage. He could pretend that he was an equal in power to the Creator, but in the end he was only a Dark Lord and, thus, had no authority.

  The Lord turned to Jewel and Terana. The others were had gone back.“Go back to your friends.”A gentle hand touched Jewel’s shoulder as Terana helped her to stand.“You are safe now.”He said.

  “Thank you.”Jewel said. She hadn’t felt this light and free for centuries.“Thank you.”She said again because once just didn’t seem enough. But then, she could probably say it for the rest of her life and it would never be enough.

  “Thank you.”Terana also said bowing her head“for helping me find her.”The woman’s silver blue eyes were wide with awe when she turned to Jewel. With a smile she said.“Come on. The others are worried.”And with that, Terana pulled Jewel away from the dark nothingness of her nightmare.

  ***

  Savranious appeared back in his chamber. He was shaking he was so angry. With a howl he slammed his fist into the wall. Not that that did much. The wall bent to his will. Needing to break something the irate Dark Lord snatched one of the many nightmares crawling about the chamber. It was an oily mesh of a lizard and a cat; a creeping, relentless small game nightmare that was a favorite of his to terrify young children with. He had others. He grabbed its neck and its tail and tore it apart.

  It squealed satisfyingly. Its flesh ripped with a wonderful wet sound that was also pleasing. But it was a nightmare and thus lacked the organs that would make an agreeable mess on the floor. Disgusted Savranious continued to rip the disintegrating fragments apart.

  How dare the Creator show up and take what was his by right? How dare He say that Jewel had never been his! With a snarl Savranious snatched another nightmare to shred. And how dare the infernal Light send him away like a dog! And in front of his prey too! With a growl Savranious tore through several more nightmares. The dumb things didn’t run away…

  Shehad gotten away, though. And for the last time. He wouldn’t be able to trap Jewel again like he had that afternoon. He would never be able to haunt her dreams at night either. He felt a moment of loss then. He had shared Jewel’s dreams for nearly two thousand years. Cut off from her now was like losing…a friend perhaps? He had never had a friend before, so he wouldn’t know for sure. But he had used the sensation often enough to torment created things to recognize it. And when did he start having such weak things like emotions?

  The thought made him halt his nightmare massacre long enough to actually think about the incident. He had been obsessed with Jewel for a long time. Still was. And he would have to find a way to claim her physically since now he was barred from doing so mentally. He would have to tell his more corporeal Dark Kin cohorts that he knew where the Fulcrum was.

  He had almost had her, too. That was the frustrating part. His bonds had been tangled around Jewel so tightly that she would have been his in another moment. But then the Creator had come. But not just Him. There had been others too. The voice of Grim had been there, which had alerted Jewel to their interference. There had also been other faint figures. But among them, reaching toward Jewel, had been a very clear young woman.

  “Damn.”Savranious said as realization hit him.“Damn.”He said again before laughing.“Oh ho! I was wrong.”A light filled his eyes as he gazed wonderingly about his chamber.“The Child of Light is already here. And she is in Arathin. With the Fulcrum...”He continued thoughtfully. Another thought occurred to him. Jewel had believed what he said about them not having the Child of Light which could only mean one thing.“They don’t know!”He said aloud.“None of them know!”And for whatever the reason this struck him as incredibly funny.

  Chapter Twelve- Allegiances

  Pershara- Riverdale

  “Father! Father Thomas!”A young voice called from down the hall. The servants and knights parted to allow the messenger through. The preparations for the coming departure and attack were well underway. Duncan watched as Father Thomas turned to hear what the messenger boy had to say. The lad came to a panting halt beside the Father Superior.

  “What is it, my son?”Father Thomas asked the boy.

  The lad bowed, placing his right hand over the burnt sienna messenger band on his left shoulder.“Father, Gatekeeper Driller sent me to tell you that there is a King’s Guard who wants to talk to you. He said it was urgent.”

  Father Thomas frowned at Duncan before turning back to the boy.“Show me.”

  The lad turned and scurried back the way he came. In following the spirit of hospitality, the soldier had been brought to a room just off the kitchens. He had been served some food and drink. A concession to the times was the novice knight who stood just outside. As soon as Father Thomas entered the room the soldier stood quickly to his feet, causing his chair to wobble, and bowed his head. His long curly black hair flopped forward. Duncan watched him warily.

  “Rise my son.”Father Thomas said.

  The man did so and both monks could see he was pale and shaking. He was also very young; nineteen maybe. He took a breath before speaking.“Thank you, Father, for seeing me. I know that people here are not too happy with the Guard sitting outside your gates.”

  “You and your fellows are following orders; the honor of a soldier.”Father Thomas answered calmly.

  The man blanched before looking down. Softly he murmured“The honor depends on the person giving the orders.”

  Duncan raised a blond brow.“Your name soldier?”
<
br />   The man’s eyes widened and he straightened quickly.“Sorry! Private Marcus Rider. I came to warn you. The sergeant was murdered.”Father Thomas’s hand went to his heart and he bowed his head in grief. The soldier continued.“Whatever orders came from the king, I don’t think Sargent T’Serol wished to follow.”

  Curious Duncan asked“Oh? And why not?”

  Rider met Duncan eye for eye.“Because he was a good man. An honorable man. A father to me. He liked you, Father.”Rider said looking toward Father Thomas.“He respected you and your monks. He often told me that it was a terrible hand to be dealt, having to be on the opposite side of Godly men.”He turned back to Duncan.“The only order T’Serol would have ignored was one that demanded violence done to the Monastery or the lands under the Monastery’s protection.

  “I heard the orders the king sent. The Guard will be heading out to meet two other squads around midnight. They will then attack the Monastery. I would suggest that you get ready for an attack.”

  “Why are you telling us this?”Duncan asked.“Why should we believe you?”

  Marcus Rider took a breath and shrugged.“Nothing I say will convince you that what I say is true. Even so, the Father said that a soldier’s honor was based on how well he follows orders. I said it depended on the honor of the one giving those orders. The King has no honor. It is treasonous of me to say so, but it’s true. If he hand any honor he would have done something to protect his people. My family lived to the west of the Rhiitan mountains in a farming village of Arsreeton near Sigon city.”

  “I’ve heard of the area.”Duncan acknowledged.

  “A few years back, trolls attacked. We begged for aide. The only reply we got was that we weren’t being attacked by rebels. We could deal with the trolls. We tried, but the trolls killed the resisters and saved the rest of us for later.”A haunted look entered Marcus’s eyes.“If it hadn’t been for Sergeant T’Serol and his fellow scouts I would have died there. I only joined the King’s Guard because I owed my life to the sergeant.”

  “You swore an oath to the king.”Duncan reminded him gently.

  Rider shook his head.“No, I swore an oath to protect Pershara. I haven’t been. I have only been following orders. Besides, the one who is following the orders is the same one who stabbed the Sergeant through the throat. The chain of command has been broken by murder, sir.

  Duncan met the young man’s eyes and saw the truth and conviction in Marcus’s gaze. The Grimedian master of Arms nodded.“Thank you for coming to warn us. What can you tell us about the coming attack?”

  Relieved that the formidable knight believed him, Marcus told them the plan as he had heard it. he also told them that most of the men, at least in his squad, were good men. They were also quietly sympathetic toward the rebels. Especially after hearing how the rebels had stood honorably against the very gates of hell. Rider thought he saw something in the blonde knight’s eyes, but nothing was said. He continued to say that many of the men were disturbed to realize that they were on the side of that evil. But they couldn’t say anything because they were soldiers following orders. The men who were the true enemies were the Corporal Grigier and his supporters.

  “Thank you, my son. We will keep your council in mind as we plan. In the mean time, finish your meal.”Father Thomas said before turning to leave.

  “Wait!”Rider said. When the two monks faced him again he continued.“Will you let me help? They killed Sergeant T’Serol.”

  Father Thomas folded his hands and said gently,“my son, I understand. We will ask you to help us, but not yet. Please, for now rest. We must now decide how to best proceed.”Marcus stared at them before nodding and slumping back into his chair. The two monks left. Outside they met Trevor and Jason. Trevor had been leaning casually against the wall eating a biscuit.“Gentlemen.”Father Thomas acknowledged them.

  Trevor pushed away from the wall.“So, not all of our opponents are truly our enemies, huh?”He asked proving that he had been listening in.

  “Apparently.”Duncan answered. At Father Thomas’s insistence the four walked down the hall.

  “What is the plan? Does it stay the same?”Jason asked.

  “For the most part.”Duncan replied. “Kairevasigh said she had some ideas regarding the other two squads. I have to say, that Table is certainly going to be quite handy.”

  “Yes, but we need to make sure Riverdale is safe and knows what is happening.”Father Thomas cautioned.

  “Don’t worry.”Trevor said with a grin.“That’s my part in this. I’ll go and see them and let them know the plan. In all likelihood, they will have some pretty good ideas themselves.”

  Father Thomas nodded.“Good. I suggest you talk to the O’Kieffys, Master Jacob, and Lura. The last knows her plants.”

  Trevor grinned at Father Thomas’s advice.“I’m off, then.”The woodsman said as he put action to words.

  “I’ll go get Kairevasigh and pick up the infrasound device.”Duncan added.

  “And young Jason and I will start moving people out. May God be with each of us.”The elderly knight said.“May He be behind this crazy plan of ours.”The last he muttered softly.

  “I’m sure He is, father.”Jason assured clapping the older man’s shoulder.“It’ll turn the Guard on their heads. It seems like something He would support. He does have a great sense of humor after all.”

  Father Thomas smiled and playfully cuffed the young knight.“Come on. Let’s get moving.”

  ***

  The Lord does indeed have a sense of humor. The joke caught the guard unawares when they stormed the monastery and found no one there. But that was only half of the fun. Just before entering, they had seen some guards over the gates. Had even shot them. But once inside, there were no bodies. No alarm. No one. Not even servants. Even more disturbing, nothing looked as if it had been touched in fifty years. That in itself was strange because they knew that people were there the day before. There was no sign of an attack other than their own. It was eerie. And what made it worse was the sense that they were not alone.

  Greatly confused, the three squads attempted to settle down in the empty monastery for the rest of the night. An hour after they had settled, things started to get truly bizarre. Chanting could be heard. Private Richardson peered out of the door of the room he and several of his mates were sharing. Walking down the hall, carrying long candles, were monks. Their hoods were drawn up so Richardson could only see the bottom half of their faces. The rest was hidden in shadow. He woke the men in the room with him. When the monks reached their door they stopped and turned slowly toward the soldiers. The Guard in the room drew their swords.

  The monks did nothing more than stare at them. It was greatly unnerving. One of the other soldiers gave a yell and dashed forward to attack. The monks didn’t raise a hand against him. But his cry did wake the soldiers in the other rooms. They came out and also attacked. Corporal Grigier was grinning maliciously. That grin was wiped right off his face as the men ran right through the monks. Instead of being hit or responding in anyway, the monks turned slowly to continue down the hall as they had been. Their heads first, then the rest of their bodies in slow unison. They started up their eerie chant before disappearing. It was then that the Guard could understand the chant.“Those who enter here with malicious intent, hear our words. Leave now before you can never leave.”Over and over again in a haunting chant that slowly echoed into silence.

  The men glanced at each other with wide eyes and pale faces. They had seen ghosts.“I didn’t sign up for this.”one of the soldiers said.

  “Me neither. A man canna fight the dead.”Another agreed as he began to slink away.

  “Where do you think you are going?”Corporal Grigier demanded. “Get back here!”

  The retreating soldiers turned to look at him.“What ya want us to do against a bunch of ghosts?”They demanded right back.

  “There are no such things as ghosts.”The corporal replied.

  “B-but sir!”One of the other
soldiers stuttered.“We just saw a whole bunch of them!”

  “It was probably a trick. Magic.”Grigier said dismissively.

  “But none of us felt anything.”Private Richardson pointed out.

  “Just the cold of the grave!”declared another.

  “Murrdererrr…”A voice sighed in the empty building. A cool breeze blew through the hall. In the distanced a bell rang.“Murderer.”the breeze seemed to breathe. The men shivered and searched frantically for the source of the voice.

  “If it isn’t ghosts, than how do you explain that!”Hissed Richardson. That distant bell rang again several more times. Suddenly one of the men pointed a shaking finger behind Grigier. Grigier turned with his sword at the ready.

  “You’re dead.”He whispered in denial. Floating down the hall toward him was the portly figure of Sergeant T’Serol. A knife was imbedded through the man’s throat.

  “Murderer.” said the apparition as it pointed at Grigier.“You are cursed. Any who follow you will live a nightmare with you.”The bell rang again. At its sound the men fled wanting to put themselves as far away from the corporal as they could. “Leave me to my peace.” The figure said fading away and the bell got louder. Feeling like something was coming out of the darkness to kill him, Griegier also turned and ran. The ringing bell clanged louder and louder following Grigier out of the monastery.

  The hunted feeling followed him even further.

  “The Private’s memory of his slain Sergeant has had the desired effect. They are coming, little girl.”The Guardian of the Table warned Kairevasigh.

  “Is Private Rider okay?”Karievasigh asked feeling a little guilty about asking the Private to relive such a horrible memory. When she had suggested that he could help the others had been wary. They were not sure how far they could trust the man. Yes, he had risked much to join their side, but he hadswitched sides. Duncan had been worried that he might be a spy. They didn’t want a spy for the enemy to know about the secret heart of the monastery, but the Guardian had assured them that the Private was trust worthy.