The First Paladin (The New Earth Chronicles Book 1)

by J. J. Thompson

  A coup? The paladin felt a rush of anger at the thought of some of the inhabitants being part of some sort of uprising, but she put that aside for the moment. Malcolm was right; the people she had led to the castle were tired, hungry and frightened. They needed to be cared for first.

  “Yes, of course,” she replied. “Harold? This is Malcolm, a good friend of mind, and the head of the castle's warriors. Malcolm, this is Harold, the man who organized this parade.”

  Harold laughed and shook hands with Malcolm.

  “A pleasure to meet you, sir,” he said to the big man.

  “The pleasure is all mine,” Malcolm replied warmly. “I don't know where you've all come from, but you are a welcome sight. Come in, come in. I've asked that food be prepared for you and quarters are being set up as we speak. That was the reason for the delay.”

  He raised his voice and looked at the scattered group.

  “Welcome, everyone, to Nottinghill Castle!”

  There was a ragged cheer from the refugees and Malcolm smiled as he turned to lead the way inside.

  Liliana waited until everyone was through the door before bringing up the rear. A heavy weight seemed to lift off of her shoulders as she saw her duty done. All of the travelers were safe and sound and her relief was immense.

  Maybe now I can go home and rest for a while, she thought. That would be a nice change.

  A few hours later, Liliana joined a small group for dinner. Most of them were old friends and she allowed herself to relax for the first time in weeks.

  Tamara and Sebastian, siblings and mages both, sat side by side looking a little frail and tired, but none the worse for wear from their ordeal following the coup of the traitorous Lincoln.

  Aiden was there with Malcolm. Almost as large as his partner, but of Korean descent, Aiden was probably the best looking man that Liliana had ever met. At the same time, he was a fierce warrior and a loyal friend. She counted herself lucky to know him.

  Chao Zhang, once a summoner of mystical creatures, but now as powerless as the mages were, joined them as well. The small, somewhat shy man seemed perpetually morose and had been since the death of his brother, Lei, several years before.

  Lei had been the only other paladin that Liliana had ever known. He had been on a routine sweep of the countryside and had died gallantly defending a home in the north of England where he had found a handful of refugees. The creature that had killed him, a monstrous cave bear, had died as well, and the family that Lei had defended had survived to tell his story.

  His death hit Chao especially hard. They had been not only brothers but the best of friends as well, and Chao had sealed himself off from others emotionally since his loss. He would still converse politely, laugh occasionally at some joke, show interest in certain topics, but it was plain that he was just going through the motions of living. Liliana worried about him, but there was really nothing that she or the others could do until Chao was ready to accept their aid. If he ever was.

  The last person to join the group for dinner was Sylvie, another mage. She was led into the room by a young woman that Liliana didn't recognize and shown to a chair. She thanked her helper and sat down gracefully, staring blankly ahead.

  Sylvie had been born blind. When magic had returned to the world along with the dragons, she had learned how to use her powers to see for the very first time. It was a remarkable gift, she had said. But now, with the waning of magic, her new sight was gone as well. And every time Liliana saw her, the unfairness of her friend's fate enraged her once again.

  “Sylvie,” the paladin said as brightly as she could. “Hello! You're looking well. How's your sister doing?”

  The mage turned her head in Liliana's direction and smiled broadly. Her red-blond hair shimmered in the candlelight and her blue eyes gave the illusion of sight as she seemed to look directly at the paladin.

  “Oh, Liliana!” she exclaimed. “How lovely. No one told me that you were back.”

  She reached out and the paladin stood up quickly and moved around the table to take her hand.

  “You are well?” Sylvie asked.

  Typical, Liliana thought. Always worried about everyone but herself.

  “I'm fine, my friend. And you?”

  “Very well. Veronique is too. She's wrapped up in some research at the moment and couldn't tear herself away. Honestly, if I didn't remind her, she'd never eat.”

  Sylvie smiled as she patted the paladin's hand.

  “You just got back?”

  Liliana pulled up a chair and sat down next to the mage.

  “A couple of hours ago,” she replied. “I escorted a group of refugees up from the coast.”

  The buzz of conversation amongst the others around the table masked their voices, but Sylvie began speaking more quietly.

  “And did you run into any trouble?” she murmured anxiously.

  “Trouble?”

  Liliana frowned at the other woman.

  “You mean, beyond the usual trash monsters? No, not at all. Why?”

  Sylvie shook her head.

  “No real reason. It's just that, now that we magic-users are so limited, some of us, my sister included, are seeking answers as to why. Veronique believes that there is a correlation between the rise in the number of monsters and the loss of our powers. And she's looking for other ways to access that power.”

  “There's a connection?” Liliana asked, startled.

  She realized that the others in the room had suddenly become quiet and were listening intently.

  Even though she was blind, Sylvie seemed aware of their attention as well and smiled a little self-consciously.

  “Perhaps. Magic allows monsters to exist, after all. When the dragons returned, they brought the power back into the world with them. By their very nature, the great beasts generated arcane energy. Unfortunately, although we saved our people by eliminating the entire draconic race, we also cut off one of the greatest sources of magic. What is left now is being used up by all of the monsters out there. It is their life energy, you see, and they leech it out of the atmosphere just by existing.”

  She shook her head with a heavy sigh.

  “By slaying the dragons and cutting off that major source of magical energy, we may have saved ourselves in the short term, and killed our race off in the long term. Ironic, don't you think?”

  “Sylvie, that is only speculation,” Tamara said from the head of the table. “We don't know that there is a correlation between the loss of magic and the destruction of the dragons. It's just as likely that the lords of Light are loosing their battle with their dark cousins. The gods are, after all, the ultimate source of all magic.”

  “Then we are doomed either way, aren't we,” Liliana told her bitterly. “If the gods of Justice are defeated, the Chaos lords will crush the remnants of the human race as easily as a man would smash an ant hill.”

  She looked from Tamara to her brother and then at Chao before turning her attention back to Sylvie.

  “You had all better pray that Veronique is on the right track, because if she isn't, you may never be able to use magic again. And if that's true, you'd best learn a trade. I don't mean to sound harsh, but your fellow citizens here in Nottinghill won't continue to feed, clothe and shelter you if you don't contribute, you know.”

  All of the magic-users paled at her comment, while Malcolm laughed out loud.

  “And that is the argument that Lincoln used to sway his traitorous compatriots when they took over the leadership of the castle,” he told the paladin. “Apparently he convinced them that the mages had become useless parasites and should be set aside so that a stronger, more capable leader could take over the reins.”

  He grinned at the uncomfortable look exchanged between Tamara and her brother.

  “Aiden and I, on the other hand, believe that there is value in wisdom. Allowing a thug like Lincoln to run this place into the ground would be a poor way to honor the memory of our friend Simon and the many others who sacrifi
ced so much to secure Nottinghill for the rest of us.”

  “Very true,” Aiden said in his slow, deliberate way. “I was dismayed to learn that anyone who lived here could be so evil that they would turn on the rest of us. And for what? The power to give orders to others? Ridiculous.”

  “What will become of the rebels?” Liliana asked the warriors.

  Malcolm and Aiden exchanged a look and then turned to Tamara.

  “Ask the council of mages,” Malcolm said politely. “We are not the leaders of this castle. The fate of the traitors lies in the hands of those that they betrayed.”

  Liliana nodded in agreement and waited for the mages to respond.

  Tamara looked startled by the big man's remark and smiled at him tentatively.

  “Are you sure, Malcolm?” she asked, sounding rather subdued. “Lincoln and the others may have had a point, you know. And our paladin friend just now as well. Unless we regain the powers that we were once gifted with, my brother, myself, and the few remaining magic-users who live here will remain practically useless. I will happily learn to sow seeds, harvest crops or do whatever else needs to be done to benefit our community, as will the rest of us, I'm sure. We're not afraid of hard work. But that hardly qualifies us to lead the inhabitants of Nottinghill Castle.”

  Before anyone else could speak, Liliana stood up abruptly and all eyes turned to her.

  “Your lack of ambition for the leadership is one of the reasons that I believe you should lead,” she told Tamara firmly. “You and Sebastian never wanted the job; all of us who know you are aware of that. And I don't see how being able to use magic makes you more suitable for the position. Churchill's only magic was his keen mind and brilliant rhetoric.”

  She smiled as she looked from face to face.

  “And one thing that I do know about all of you is that you are intelligent. Even you, Malcolm,” she added with a teasing grin.

  The big man laughed heartily.

  “You may be giving me too much credit, lady,” he chortled.

  “I know she is,” Aiden agreed with a wide grin.

  “Hey! Be nice. But Liliana has a point, Tamara. We need strong willed, clever leaders, especially in times like these, when the world is becoming increasingly more dangerous. If your powers return, all well and good. But if they do not, you still have much to offer.”

  Sebastian and Sylvie looked relieved and Tamara nodded gratefully. Chao appeared to be listening but remained expressionless.

  “Thank you, all of you, for your support,” Tamara said. “I swear that we are doing everything that we can to figure out why magical energy has become so weak. Veronique's theories may be right, but we simply don't know yet. If only there was a way to contact Simon in his refuge in the Void. But without our powers, we can't even attempt it.”

  Liliana had sat down again. At Tamara's words, she felt something tickle the back of her mind, like an itch.

  Contact Simon, she thought. Yes, if they could do that, she was sure that he would have some sort of solution. Simon O'Toole was the strongest magic-user that the humans had yet produced, and the only wizard. If they could get in touch with him...

  The sound of the door to the hall opening interrupted her thoughts and she looked over to see several people wearing aprons walk in, carrying heavy trays.

  “Dinner is served, everyone,” Malcolm said brightly. “Eat up. We can worry about saving the world when we're done. I for one think better on a full stomach.”

  Chapter 2

  Liliana stayed the night at Nottinghill. Her small home was a day's walk from the castle and she knew enough not to travel alone after dark, paladin or not.

  While she was there, she paid a visit to the castle's blacksmith. Before the waning of magical energy, her armaments had never needed servicing. No matter how many dings and dents it received, her armor would always return to its pristine condition a few hours later, as would her sword.

  Now though, any damage had to be hammered out, and her sword needed regular sharpening.

  The blacksmith, Daniel Chase, was a bulky young man with a shock of curly red hair, a patchy beard and hands the size of frying pans. He was fond of Liliana and grinned a wide, gap-toothed smile when she turned up at his smithy that evening.

  “Lady paladin,” he exclaimed as she walked in. “So good to see you. I was just banking the fire for the night. Do you have need of my services?”

  Liliana looked around the smithy with approval.

  The building was located in the inner court of the castle, built against the western wall. It was made of heavy cut stone, with a low ceiling and had a permanent acrid smell of melted ore and burnt wood.

  But Daniel kept it neat and well organized. He had several apprentices working to learn the craft that was now in high demand in the new era they lived in.

  He had been a farrier in England back before the dragon attacks, making a living crafting horseshoes and caring for several stables full of horses for wealthy clients. Now he had expanded his skills to create everything from farming implements and plow blades to armor and weapons. Liliana considered him a master smith, even though Daniel always said that he still had much to learn.

  “Please don't let me keep you,” the paladin demurred. “I can come back in the morning if you are done for the day.”

  “Bah! It's been a light one today, lady, and I enjoy working on that magical kit of yours.”

  Liliana laughed at the comment.

  “It's hardly magical anymore, my friend,” she replied. “Damned armor is constantly getting dinged up and the sword won't hold an edge through more than a few skirmishes.”

  Daniel shook a thick finger at her, making Liliana smile as the gesture reminded her of her late father.

  “Now lady, it is not my place to correct you, but I've seen that sword of yours cut through an inch of hardened steel. Dull edges or not, no ordinary weapon can do that. No, 'tis still blessed by the gods, I say, and always will be.”

  “Perhaps so, Daniel. But blessed or not, it's dull. Can you...?”

  “Give it here, lady, and I'll set it right.”

  Liliana drew her sword and handed it, hilt first, to the smith.

  He accepted it with a nod and turned away to begin sharpening it.

  While Daniel was working, Liliana walked out of the smithy and stood looking up at the ramparts. The light was fading from the sky and the first stars were making their appearance. She was inexplicably drawn back to her days in Russia, when she was a child and watching the day turn to night while her father would tell her stories.

  “Papa, why is that one so bright?” her eight year old self had asked once, pointing at an especially brilliant star.

  “Ah kiska,” her father, a great bear of a man, had replied gently. He had always called her kitten. “It is trying to get your attention. You see? It shows off, glowing brighter than its friends. And it has worked! You have seen it. That is all that a star wants, you know, to be noticed. Now it is happy. Now when the sun rises, it will sleep content.”

  Liliana had looked up quizzically at him. Her father was quite old when she was born, the last of six children. He had sold his small business and retired and they had moved into the country outside of Saint Petersburg, his hometown. It would be years before she returned to Moscow.

  “Is that true?” she had asked dubiously.

  Her father had stroked her hair and smiled.

  “Of course it is. But as you grow, you will learn that truth evolves and changes. For now, let the truth be simple. Enjoy the dance of the heavens while you can, kiska. Enjoy being young.”

  Liliana smiled to herself as she watched torches flare into life along the ramparts.

  Such a kind man, she thought fondly. So sad that he had died while she was still so young.

  “Lady?”

  She turned around and saw Daniel standing in the entrance of the smithy.

  “You were lost in thought?” he asked as he held out her freshly-sharpened sword.
>
  She took it by the hilt and walked back inside to examine its edge in the light.

  “I suppose I was. The second time today that's happened. Huh. I must be getting old.”

  The blacksmith laughed and shook his head.

  “You look younger than I do,” he told her firmly. “And stronger too.”

  “That's reassuring,” she replied dryly. “The blade looks perfect, Daniel, as always. Now, is there anything that I can do for you in exchange?'

  The man laughed heartily as he banked the fire.

  “No lady, thank you. Your efforts to protect the castle and those of us who live here are all the credit that you will ever need, as I hope you know. As long as you fight for us, you will always have access to the goods and services that we can provide, simple though they may be.”

  The castle operated on a bartering system, since the idea of exchanging money for services rendered was a little absurd. People like Liliana, the guardsmen and others who protected the inhabitants were able to requisition food, clothing and other essentials from the castle's stores as they were needed.

  “Well, if you ever do need anything, my friend, don't hesitate to ask,” the paladin told him. “Oh, and I have been keeping an eye open for precious metals. So far this year, I haven't found any.”

  Daniel nodded glumly.

  “Aye, the homes and villages within a large radius of the castle have been picked clean, I'm afraid. I do thank you for your vigilance though. I have standing orders from half of the population for jewelry and trinkets.”

  He gave her a sardonic grin.

  “Imagine, the world has gone to hell these ten years and people still want useless baubles. Ah, we'll never change.”

  “Yes, that's true. In many ways, we are still the same humans that we were before the Change. Certainly some of us are just as stupid and treacherous. Speaking of which, do you know how many fools threw in their lot with Lincoln? And why didn't the others in the castle stand up to him?”