by Dan Bilodeau
A cool breeze was blowing, coursing through his hair and invigorating him somewhat. An owl hooted. Curran was right. He had to put Hadrian out of his mind, at least for the time being. He’d been told he had to meet with the Druid Elders, as some decisions needed to be made. He walked back inside the cave, to an area with a light coming from a giant fire pit with flames but no smoke. Several Druids were gathered around the leaders of the Brotherhood, who were wearing elaborate robes displaying all sorts of symbols and runes. Among them was Liam. Apparently his youth concealed great talent. He was the youngest member by far in the group of Elders.
Dal’s heart was heavy. He had to say something. If not for him, then for Hade and all those who had died because of what he perceived his actions had fostered. Beads of sweat dripped down his face, but he found himself thinking of the stream Hade always described. Calm himself. Empty his emotions. Think oneness.
One of the older Druids spoke up when he saw Dal approaching: “I am Doran, theFirst Elder and leader of the Brotherhood. Who comes before us, the Elders of the Brotherhood?”
“I, Dalziel…of Quork,” Dal managed to get out. The Brotherhood favored formality when holding a counsel meeting, and Liam had told him what to say prior to the gathering, along with the names of the Elders.
“Why do you come before us?” Doran asked.
“To humbly learn the ways of the Brotherhood. To teach our history with conviction. To aid the oppressed and shelter the weak. To be the shield and the sword. Always to serve Dio, the god of my ancestors.” Liam had also taught him the words of the Druid creed, which he recited perfectly.
“Dalziel of Quork, the council has agreed that you are worthy of the title Novice. Henceforth, you are on the path of becoming a Druid of Ibernia. You will devote yourself to our principles and heed our advice. Do you accept?”
“I do.”
“Dio has bestowed upon you a great gift. I am told that you have the Fire Stone of the Seraphs. Is this true?”
In response, Dal took the stone from his pocket and lifted it for all to see. “Dio has so graced me.”
The Druid leader cleared his throat. “In the history of the Brotherhood, we have never had a Seraph as a Druid Novice before, but we will train you in our beliefs the same as any other Druid.” He stared at Dal, as if measuring him. “It is done, then. Tell your friends to come forward."
Pad, Curran, and Deidre came in and repeated what Dal had said. Pad and Curran were also made Novice Druids, while Deidre was made a Novice Druidess, the first ever, and given the same privilege of learning magic as the boys. When everything was over with, Doran said, “It is now time to decide our next move. Fellow Druids,” he bowed his head to Deidre, “and Druidess, what say you?”
After a considerable silence, an Elder said. “I say we regroup and establish a new base of operations. It took them years to find the Enclave. Who’s to say they will find us again any time soon if we are careful? We must survive and rebuild our Order. That has always been our way.” He was greeted with murmurs of agreement.
“We have heard from Elder Gaylen,” the Elder Leader said. “Does anyone else wish to speak?”
“I do,” Dal said. He hadn’t realized he had spoken, but it was too late to turn back. “If we run, they will find us. They proved that today. Before, they wouldn’t even have been able to open the door had they found the Enclave. But now, with those mechanical suits, they can match or exceed our capabilities in almost every way. Running is the path of destruction.” He could feel the eyes penetrating him and took a deep breath. “We have to meet them in the field. We have to fight. Where is there left to run? They will hunt us down, one by one, if we do not stand together. I will fight as the Fire Seraph if you will join your strength to mine.”
A commotion arose, as several Druids began speaking at once:
“He’s barely a Novice!”
“Fighting is suicide!”
“What does he know? He’s just a boy.”
“Ten years ago we faced them in open combat and it ended in disaster!”
A Druid stood up. “What right does he have to speak at this gathering?” he said.
At that, Doran held up his hand. The talking subsided after a moment. “A Novice he may be, but he is also a Seraph. Given to us by Dio, he is one of our Lord’s vicars on earth. I believe that counts for a great deal. And let us not forget that Hadrian spoke very highly of him in his correspondences over the years. I believe that adds weight to his words as well.” He stared at Dal, a twinkle in his blue eyes. “And why, Novice Dalziel, do you think we should fight? How can we win against that?”
“Call up your armies of farmers. I heard talk that they have been training in nearby caves, which means they are close by. With the army and the Druids fighting together, we have a chance. That’s the best we can hope for, in any situation.”
“I see some of our Brothers have been loose with their tongues.” He turned his attention briefly to Liam, who grew almost as red as Dal’s stone. Dal didn’t mean to get him in trouble, but it couldn’t be helped at this point.
“It is true that we have been training our soldiers for a potential rebellion. But we have suffered great losses at the hands of the Andals today. How can we make up for that?”
“With this.” Dal raised his stone for all to see. It blazed fiercely in his hand. “I am a Seraph, the Fire Seraph of Dio. It has been a thousand years since my kind has been seen in Ibernia. The last time, Luan overthrew invaders and freed the people. The time of the Seraphs has returned.” Dal’s heart surged. As his passion increased, the stone shone brighter until shades of red came shining forth, illuminating the cave as if the fire pit weren’t there. Several Druids had to shield their eyes. “If you will stand by me in this fight, I know we will win. Together, we will defeat the Andals.”
“But you are only one, Dalziel,” the Elder Leader said. “Luan had four others Seraphs at his side.”
“Luan faced a much larger force, and it was unrelenting for many years. I saw for myself the fighting in the caverns. I tell you, we have hurt them. Yes, they destroyed the Enclave, but they paid a bitter price for their victory. I am told hundreds of Andals were killed.” He gave Liam a quick glance. “I believe they are no longer as confident as they once were, even if they might be telling each other of their greatness.”
He held out his right hand, and a blazing sword of fire appeared. He raised it and spoke loudly. “The Andals have taken everything from me. My father, my brother, my mentor, and driven my mother from our home. And they killed the family of the woman I love. I know they have taken from you as well. How many more hardships must we face? How long before we do not have the strength to fight our oppressors? Are we no more than sheep to be herded? I say, no. I say we will not stand for this. I say we will not go quietly into the night. Win or lose, we show this country that hope is alive.” He lowered his hand slowly and the sword vanished.
Several Druids stared at Dalziel, a stunned look on their faces. Doran said, “You speak with great conviction. And know there are brothers who feel the same as you, myself included. When the first Andals entered the Enclave, Druids were sent to muster the army, which is not far away, so they should be ready by daybreak if we should decide to fight. But now the Elders will meditate and decide our course of action."
The Druids left, with Dal, Deidre, Pad, and Curran tagging behind. “So you love me, huh?” He turned to see Deidre coming over to him. “Where did that come from?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I honestly don’t know. It just…seemed like the right thing to say. I can’t explain it. Maybe I got carried away. I just found myself talking, and a lot of other stuff came out."
“Soren would be proud of you,” she said, making him happy she was discussing his brother and not what he’d said about his feelings for her. “So would my family. So would your mother. What you said…don’t think the Elders will be able to ignore it. I think, deep down, they’re all thinking it.”
&
nbsp; Dal hugged her, and they held each other in silence, swaying to their own gentle rhythm.
“Some speech there, Mayor Dalziel,” Pad said as stepped over to them and interrupted their embrace. “Didn’t realize you were running for office.”
Curran came up behind Pad. “What you said, Dal, was great. We’re all behind you, we're tired of running.”
“Not that you could ever run very fast, anyway,” Pad said.
“I’m faster than you.”
“In your dreams, maybe.”
Curran shook his head. “The army will have leaders, and when they get here, they'll tell the Elders what they think of our chances. Who knows, Dal, you may have just started a war.”
He hadn’t thought about it that way. Simon came over. He nodded at Deidre. “Welcome, Druidess of the Brotherhood. The Elders will have to create a separate Order for you. It’s about time a woman was brought in, especially one who can sling arrows like you.” And to Dal, "We’re going to need the Fire Seraph with all his powers in full force if we battle the Andals on open ground.”
“You’ll have him, and--”
Liam ran over to them before Dal could finish. “Come, the Council has decided. We’re meeting outside.”
TWENTY-TWO
They approached the Council, which had gathered by the light of a crescent moon. The mood was somber, everyone silently staring at Dal. Doran’s face showed considerable strain, which Dal had no problem discerning, even in the dim light. A short man with a long scar on his cheek stood next to Doran. He had closely cropped brown hair and a mustache.
Doran raised his hands. “The Council has decided. We shall go to war with the Andals.” A cheer arose from the Druids, but it was subdued. He continued, “We know where the Andals are readying themselves, and General Brennen can explain what else he’s learned.”
The short man took a step forward. “We currently have six hundred troops in our army. We estimate there are 1,500 Andals, so we’re going to be outnumbered three to one. We’re counting on you Druids to even up the numbers in a hurry.” His face might have been made of granite for all the expression it showed. “But we have to deal with those damned power suits or whatever they are. We spied on their exercises, and let’s pray they only have a few, because our swords and lances and arrows are no match for them. You Druids have to knock them out first if we’re to stand a chance. You do that and my men will hold their own against them.”
“Do you believe you can battle Andal soldiers if these suits are destroyed?” the Elder Leader asked.
“As you know, we’ve been able to raid several of their supply depots over the past few years, so we’re not a bunch of feeble fools, but we still have men going into battle in farmer’s garb and wielding pitchforks.” He put his arms behind his back. “Let me be frank. Magic is going to win or lose this battle for us. But we can help you, and if you can even up the odds for us, together we can beat these bastards.” He stepped back.
“General, assemble the army, because I believe we have a battle to fight,” Doran said. General Brennen bowed and walked away with a small contingent of men he’d brought with him.
The moon was now behind the clouds, and the night was pitch-black. “Rest up tonight, my brethren, for tomorrow we fight!” A host of cheers rose up from the Druids. Dal’s voice was among them. The hooting of owls interrupted the murmurs of conversation that continued long after the meeting officially ended.
Dal went for a walk. He needed to think. So much had happened: finding the stone, Soren’s death. Hade and Deidre, rescuing Pad and Curran, the escape from Quork and the attack by a massive Andal army once they thought they had reached safety. Dal couldn’t believe he had lived through it all. A month ago he was a farmer, dreaming of doing something other than farming. Now he was a Seraph, the fate of Ibernia on his shoulders. “Thank you, Hade, wherever you are. And if you’re still on this Earth, we need you,” Dal said.
“Talking to yourself, are you?” He recognized Pad’s voice, but it was so dark he could barely make out Curran and Deidre at his side.
“Thinking about Hade out loud, so I guess I was talking to myself." Pad hugged Dal. Then Curran joined in. Then Deidre. The four friends from Quork stood silently holding one another for several moments before they broke up.
“Figured I’d get that hug in before tomorrow,” Pad said. “Especially since you’re most likely to be on fire. Remember, when you’re making the Andals extra crispy, be sure I’m not in the way.” Curran and Dal laughed.
“I want you all to know,” Deidre said in a serious voice, “that I love each of you in different ways. And I mean it. You’re all like family now, and I cherish each of you.”
They walked back to the cave, saying little else. Curran lay down and began snoring immediately. Pad was asleep almost as fast. Dal and Deidre snuggled next to each other. In the glowing embers of the dying fire, the light illuminated her features as she lay with her eyes closed. After all they had been through, she still managed to look beautiful.
As if sensing his gaze, she opened her eyes. Dal stared back. They could both be dead by this time tomorrow. She took his hand and placed it so he could feel her heart beating. This calmed Dal, but he was much too nervous to sleep. He stared at the roof of the cave, thinking about the coming day. And when he did close his eyes, he wasn’t scared for himself, which felt odd.
The helmets in front of him glistened as the clouds broke and the moonlight shone through for just a moment. But the moment was magnificent. Wulf was staring at the men sleeping in long lines on the ground in front of him. He loved the order and discipline of it all. 1,400 men were waiting to die at his command. The Emperor can enjoy his throne. He doesn’t know how it feels to have this kind of control. I am a God to these men.
Wulf blessed Jethru for giving him this opportunity. Or rather, for allowing him to seize this opportunity. Jethru only helped those who helped themselves. This is what so many people didn’t recognize. Wulf was beginning to understand Jethru better lately. And whether or not he believed in Him, he was going to use Him to his advantage.
Tomorrow, he would end a conflict that had been raging for more than 150 years. Tomorrow was the day when he would put an end to these dark magicians and their schemes, forever. He will crush them for the glory of the Andal Empire. May it endure forever.
Unable to sleep, he went over to the largest tent in the camp. The tent, as far as Wulf was concerned, that held the key to victory. In it were the suits, six in all. Wulf was pleased with their results in the caves He had gone back and seen for himself the aftermath of the Golem unit’s devastation. The Druids hadn’t been ready for it, and several of them had been crushed. The six suits, combined with the Andal army’s superior armor and training, would sweep the rebels aside like bread crumbs.
The most exciting part was that his scouts informed him that the enemy was massing. Excellent. Finally, an open battle instead of digging these peasants out of their holes like rodents. His men would make short work of them. Still, something nagged at him: “Fire Angel.” He dismissed the thought. Now was not the time to let superstitions cloud his judgment.
He went inside the tent. Supported by wooden pegs to give the appearance that the suits were standing on their own, they were eerie in the dark, as if inhabited by spirits. They were. They would be the last things many of these Druids would ever see, if Wulf had his way. Then the Emperor would make him his right-hand man. He could see it clearly now. A mass of the populace cheering wildly when he rode into Andlar, riding triumphantly on the shoulders of his men throughout the streets of the capital, and parades in his honor in every city he visited in the country. All he had to do was crush these rebels for good.
He exited the tent and peered at the moon as it seemingly danced in and out of the clouds. Tomorrow could not come soon enough. In a very short time, he would be the second most powerful man in the Andal Empire. And not long after that, Emperor Wulf.
Dal awoke to the smell of food cookin
g. Today his country’s fate would be decided. He was still holding Deidre’s hand, and he gently released it and moved around, shaking off what had been a short but sound sleep.
He gripped the stone. He wished he had more time for training. He wished Hadrian were by his side. Just how much in control was he? Could he control the stone, or would it hold mastery over him?
“Morning,” he said softly as Deidre stirred. She mumbled something and rolled over. Pad and Curran were also still sleeping. Dal wanted to take in some fresh air and get his thinking straight.
Outside the cave, the crickets and owls had given way to the jays and robins. With cheerful chirping all around him, Dal tried to enjoy the sounds and sights of the forest, all too aware that this might be his last day to do so. After several minutes to himself, he met up with the Elders, who were loosely assembled near a tent a few hundred yards from the cave’s entrance.
“Mind if I join you?” a voice asked from behind him.
“Elder Doran,” Dal said as soon as he recognized the man. “What an honor.”
The two surveyed the mass of tents their troops had pitched in the woods, then Doran said, “I miss Hadrian too, son.” Dal wasn’t aware his looks had been that transparent, and he involuntarily raised an eyebrow. “Oh, don’t be so surprised. I know the man was your mentor. There is always a special bond between master and apprentice that cannot be replaced. I did not have the honor of being Hadrian’s master, but I did have a hand in his training. He was a bright young pupil…good man to boot. We have so few of those left, and I….” Doran’s eyes misted over as he continued. “I want you to know that Hadrian spoke very highly of you in his letters to me. Regardless of what happened in your village, he was going to train you, but events forced him to begin this sooner than he’d planned. He also always considered you as a friend.”