The Sword to Unite

by Peter J. Hopkins

  Cedric’s party was offered a meal alongside the commoners who appeared at the court while the noble himself was given orders to meet with the king privately. Led along many spiraling staircases, Cedric arrived at the roof, where the greenery of the garden was a welcome sight compared to the stone structure of the palace. The king sat on a bench next to a series of statues dedicated to the elven gods, where the vines gracefully entwined upon the ancient carved stone. Between two of these statues were piles of slightly raised grass, with a stone marker above each, which made it the king’s favorite spot to spend his evenings. Oswine was delicately trimming a rose bush as Cedric approach, and the old man offered him a seat next to him.

  “This is all the kingdom I could ask for Cedric.” The old man said as he smiled a genuine and gentle grin. “I heard of Orford’s fate, and I’ll have you know I’ll give your people warm shelter and good food while they stay within the city walls. I suppose you’ll be the one to return with them, rebuild that peaceful little spot.” Oswine began to reminisce with the young man. “I remember when you and my lads would go running through these halls, such a gift it was to hear you all laughing as your feet clicked away at the stone beneath you.” The old man paused in his story, looking towards the stone markers and sighed heavily, in which Cedric took the time to respond.

  “Those were happy days my lord, but we have to move forward with our lives,” said Cedric.

  Oswine gave an annoyed humph. “You say that, and yet you desire nothing but to go backward,” Oswine said as his noble helped him to his feet. “We cannot all live in our garden forever Cedric. I remain as the king of Lorine, not some herbalist. And while you continue as a lord of a village, for now, you cannot always remain as it. I shall give you more time, but know that no one who accepts this position should do it willingly. It is the wise king who fears the power of his crown.” Oswine, trimmed a red flowered plant with tiny tweezers as Cedric gave his leave, the lord of Orford had no mind to speak further on the matter.

  For so long in Cedric’s life, they had been like father and son. While Albert fought in the Green Mountains, Cedric was taken care of by his dear friend King Oswine. At the court in Wulfstan, Cedric was groomed and trained as a son of the king, some even reporting Cedric as his bastard son from the confusing state of the boy. The king’s two sons found themselves a faithful companion in Cedric, and the three became quite the nuisance in the castle kitchen.

  Owen was the older of the two and built much stronger than his pale younger brother, Waldo. Even though this inheritor son proved the better in combat and strength, he never once laid his hands on his brother, for he was a kind and gentle soul, some called him Owen the Gentle Giant. Waldo was far skinnier and paler than his two compatriots, and he was often found sick in his bed. It was at the age of twelve, that Waldo succumbed to a severe fever, thus creating the first stone marker in the garden. Oswine was seen in black clothing for months, and he wept by his son’s grave each time he visited the garden.

  It was only three summers ago, that Owen was laid next to his brother, a rogue arrow from a Lorinian archer accidentally found its place in the Gentle Giant’s chest during a battle with Emford, a small kingdom to the southwest. As Owen lay mortally wounded on the battlefield, the archer was brought before him, about to be executed, it was a man no older than he, his eyes terrified and he sobbed for mercy.

  Owen was confused by his soldiers’ actions. “Let no more people die of mere accidents this day, he has done no wrong to me in his actions, let him be guiltless in this course.” The prince spoke, raising his hands to the sky as his heart stopped. His army wept greatly for him, there had never been a kinder or braver man amongst them, as he shared the pains and troubles of battle with his men as any common foot soldier. The loss of his last son appeared not even to phase the poor king. He did not weep for he had not the will to mourn another son. Now the last vestment of parental guidance fell on the shoulders of Cedric, an educated youth who had training in both administration and warfare was greatly sought after by the king.

  Cedric left the roof of the palace feeling dismayed, as he had scorned one who cared deeply for him, for his selfish desire for freedom. It was in the hearts of the men of Lorine to want both power and liberty, and Cedric did not know which would be his path. He wandered the halls searching for answers, yet he found none. It was growing late in the evening and Cedric retired to the chambers he and his fellow companions had been given. Beorn and the other villagers had returned to the refugees of Orford, where he found his wife and unborn child safe.

  The rest of his company, Alfnod, Eadwine, and Aderyn remained in the palace as guests of the king. Aderyn relaxed by the fire of the ornate chamber as Alfnod and Eadwine sat by the table. Eadwine was feasting on the exquisite delicacies the palace produced for its guests. The food of the festival of Orford paled in comparison to the meals of the palace, where each piece of meat or bread appeared as if dipped in golden delight. The elf was overwhelmed by the wines he was given access to, many of which were now disposed of as empty bottles rattling upon the floor. He was nodding his head in a rhythmic fashion, made tired and cumbersome by his eating and drinking throughout the night.

  Alfnod was composed and sober in his seat, reading from the works of a historian and his journals on the demonic lords and their powers. Cedric sat next to Alfnod and began reading along on the chapters discussing the influence of Crassus Baal on the world of men. It contained many sketches and descriptions of the trickster lord, often appearing as a refined noble in gaudy colored clothes. Other described him as a massless cloud, but still, others describe a great commander, adorned in golden and black armor, riding atop an enormous dragon. There was, however, no information on Edward’s tome. Alfnod grew impatient with each fruitless page stroke, his quest for insight into the plans of the demon failing. Tomorrow they would speak to the king, and explain these visions of Cedric, and the two hoped that this warning would come in time for the next prophetic fulfillment.

  Chapter 11

  The Secrets of the Palace

  Cedric laid for hours in his bed, unable to sleep. “Cedric, are you still awake?” Aderyn called out in a faint whisper as she too lay in her bed unable to find rest. “Yes, here, why don’t we go for a walk in the palace grounds? I can show you what I remember.” Cedric said as the pair snuck from their chamber, taking caution not to stir their companions. The two walked along an outer hall, where the stone archways were alight from the flames of the torches and light of the stars and moon. Along this walkway, the great banners of the noble houses gently swayed in the cool summer’s breeze.

  Cedric awkwardly tried to break the silence. “I’m glad you’re with me, I feel as though this journey will not stop with our stay in Wulfstan. I just hope we have enough time to set things right again.” Cedric peered out into the night sky, spotting the many stacks of chimney smoke dancing with the wind, and hearing the drunken songs of the people in the taverns below.

  “How does it feel being back here?” Aderyn asked as Cedric broke from his gazing.

  “It’s strange, I thought I would never return to this city, and certainly not like this. Oswine’s already dogging me for the heir; I can’t do it. Why does he want me? I’ve done nothing all my life, and suddenly he just wants me crowned king? And the other nobles would have a festival arranged for the day they organize a moot to remove me from power. I would not receive support from any of the top members of the Witan, save Lafayette. Tell me, Aderyn, why does he choose me?” Aderyn took Cedric by the hands, and the two stared into each other’s eyes as she spoke to comfort the distressed noble. “It is because he sees in you what I see in you, what your friends see in you, you are a good man Cedric that is a title given more rarely than that of a king.” Cedric felt comfort in the words of Aderyn and the two held to their feelings and each other as they watched the moon’s journey across the sky. Cedric suddenly got an idea of something long ago from his childhood. “Aderyn, come with me, I have a pleas
ant surprise for you,” the noble said as he pulled Aderyn into the grand hallways of the palace and began rubbing his arms and hands along the smooth and familiar wall.

  “I suppose all this talk of kings has made you mad?” Aderyn smirked as she stood with her arms folded, unimpressed by Cedric.

  “Well, it may not look like much right now.” The noble said, his arms still searching for a place he once remembered. He smiled with glee as he felt the rough outline of a stone square and a click that followed. “But not everything is as it appears to be.”

  The two had rediscovered one of Cedric’s favorite childhood play places, the secrets passages of the palace. They took one of the burning torches from the hall and began their descent into the hidden walkways of the palace. It was not damp or jagged like that of the cave systems of other great keeps, but rather smooth carved stone, with many vaulted ceilings and collapsed doorways, signs of the ancient elven city that once lay here.

  Along the smooth walls, magnificent mosaics depicted the ancient elven tales and rulers of these lands. Images of garden festivals and great bathhouses were the most common. Cedric’s favorite from his youth was that of Prince Dothriel, the elven clad in a shining steel helmet with a green cloak as his chief body armor. His tale was one of deception and cleverness. In his time, his people were few and Thyrs scattered the lands in hunting parties, killing or taking prisoner any elf they came upon. And so, Dothriel went alone into the forest and laid a trap for Mushag, the most fearsome war chief of the Thyrs. Upon the war party’s entry to the woods, the elven archer unleashed volley after volley of arrows, and retreat as the Thyrs approached them, refusing to face them in open combat. This continued for hours until the Thyrs were finally withered down and fled the forest like wild beasts, screaming of the ghosts of the forest stalking them.

  They stopped at the end of this long and narrow hallway, to a depiction of the tale of Kendrick and Lady Juliana. Kendrick was a renowned warrior of the Belfan lands, known for his chivalric code of honor in which he spared all who surrendered to him, and for that, his people loved and admired him. Juliana was the great Lady of the Lusani elves, known far and wide as the wisest and most beautiful of all the elves. With his falcon, Kendrick sent letters between the two lovers, of the warmth of the sun and his love for the lady. In his final letter, Kendrick wrote of his illness; he was afflicted directly by Beelzus, the demoness of diseases and famine, for the bitter maiden of foul plagues had grown jealous of the love between the two mortals. When he attempted to eat, his food turned to ash in his mouth, water became like acid salt and could not sustain him. When he wanted to rest, the sound of one thousand marching men rang in his head. Juliana rode to the aid of the one she loved, and found him withered and cold, but still alive. For days, she wept with his head in her lap, praying to the gods for aid. Finally, Loden the Traveler, appeared before her and presented her with a gift of a small flask. With this vial, Loden commanded the fair maiden to find the Hidden Lake, where all life that requires water is born, for only there could the cure for Kendrick’s pestilence be found. Taking the flask, Juliana healed Kendrick, who regained his strength three-fold. Upon the wall of the hidden hallway, the mosaic depicted the two lovers standing beneath ancient elven ruins, overcome with moss and vines, with Juliana still holding the flask at her hip.

  Cedric and Aderyn held their hands in front of this old image of the golden days of Glanfech and silently vowed themselves to one another. As the torchlight flickered and diminished, they made their way back to the palace, their secret between only the two of them.

  Chapter 12

  Wizards and Their Towers

  Cedric and his company rested well in the palace that night; no dreams haunted the poor noble on this moon for he did not sleep for long. His companions were still asleep when he and Alfnod were summoned to speak before the king at dawn. They were led again to the great hall of the king, where Adalgott’s Stone lay. The king appeared from a rear door, and all in the court graciously bowed as he took his place on the throne, thus bringing the day’s politics and squabbles to his attention. “We shall begin with the situation regarding the village of Orford.”

  He boomed as his scribes began translating his words to the paper on their desks nearby. One of these scribes was, in fact, a magi, wizards in service of a royal court. His name was Gaspar, an apprentice to the Grandmaster of Magi, sent as a gifted scholar to the king. His appearance was like that of an alert owl, his eyes were opened wide, and he tried to focus on everything in sight. He appeared neurotic as he scurried through the hall, collecting books and writing down their insights. He and these other magi were here as a trading vessel from Tanari had brought many texts and works on ancient philosophers and technologies and the king had ordered they be transcribed in the palace library.

  The king began. “The people of Orford shall be the full pleasures as my subjects done unto them, they shall be given safe shelter and warm food within our cities walls. In the market district, there are many vacant insulae, from the time of Nacian influence in our lands. I decree that these be given, without taxation to the people of Orford, until the supplies have been gathered to ensure a safe and hastened rebuilding and recolonization of their currently destroyed village. On this matter, our Chancellor, Lord William, shall oversee the issuing of my commands. There shall be no debate on this issue further, but we now come to the second ordeal to arrive from the sacking of Orford. I have been informed by the village’s lord, Cedric that this destruction was for told of by way of a prophetic dream. He shall be given the attention of the court, and the magi present shall mark his word.”

  Cedric approached the center of the throne room and stood upon which a small wooden platform gave him height so that all in the court could see and hear him. “It was for many weeks that I was plagued with visions of a burning lake with a glowing white tree too consumed by flames. It was here that I now realize that this was a warning for what was to come to Orford, that it was a vision of ill events to come. On the night of the massacre, the vision was at its clearest, and beyond the glowing tree, I saw a withered corpse with a crown of ten fingers, I saw Azrael.”

  The people of the court gasped and whispered, and Gaspar slammed his book onto his table, leaning as forward as his posture allowed, beads of sweat began forming on his forehead as Cedric continued. “If this vision is to be taken as the prophetic truth, then the image that came in the journey to Wulfstan must be taken as a grim warning. I saw this lake and tree once more but witnessed the mutilating murder of a milky white ram, stabbed and gutted by many hooded figures. I believe this to be a warning that Azrael means to strike against Lorine.” Again, there was a great shock amongst the crowd, while the Witan tried to remain calm. The king sat, unmoved by this speech in his appearance. “We shall give a full investigation into this matter, rest easy Cedric, I recommend you speak to one of our magi regarding this matter, they shall help to understand these visions.” Oswine motioned with a single finger for a magi to come forward, to which Gaspar immediately responded, practically jumping over his small table as he stumbled towards Cedric and bowed.

  The court began its long chain of daily duties as an erratic Gaspar led Cedric through the palace library, the wizard, rambling as they went. “You have no idea what this means! By Wodan, this is significant in the very meaning of the word. I have studied the demonic lords and their servants for many years but never in my life expected something like this in my lifetime.” Cedric struggled to keep up with the wizard, who ran through row after row of books, collecting handfuls of tomes on Crassus Baal as he went.

  Finally, they arrived at a wooden alcove and began scrolling through the many books as Gaspar explained to the best of his ability the full situation of Cedric’s visions.

  “In the time of Adalgott’s victory over Azrael, the gods knew he would return for our king did not wholly slay him. They devised a plan, to send one who would be greater than that of the first unified king of man, to destroy the false one an
d his minions. This man would be known as The Seer, one who could gaze at the gods and be aware of their world as our own. You say you saw a lake with a glowing tree at the epicenter?”

  Cedric nodded, his mind spinning from this new information. “That is the Tree of Life, the domain of the gods. You are The Seer; this means only one thing. Azrael has begun his return; already his minions make ready his way. You’ve seen it in our world, across every street in Wulfstan there is a mark of the demon lord Crassus Baal, markers that his domain is fast approaching. We believe this is being done by a man we call the Magus; he is well versed in dark magic, we will need to be cautious,”

  Cedric stopped the wizard and began to speak for himself. “Along my route to Arazor, we found a strung-up corpse of a deer, used in some sort of ritual…” The wizard immediately returned his voice to the conversation. “Yes, another sign of Azrael’s rising power, we must be quick with our counter to the dark lords, there is no telling what their plans are, and who can be trusted. I have much to research, chiefly, how we would slay this monstrosity if, gods forbid, he manages to return. We must meet later; I trust you’ll be busy with your affairs.” Gaspar said as he pointed to the door of the library, where a guard waited to deliver a message to Cedric. By the time Cedric had turned around to say farewell to the wizard, Gaspar was rounding the corner of the library with the speed of a bird, carrying a mass of scrolls and texts along with him.