The Forgetting Moon

by Brian Lee Durfee

  Hawkwood looked at Jondralyn squarely. “You are now privy to the most guarded secret of the Brethren of Mia. For the time to gather the lost weapons of Laijon and the five angel stones has begun. It is the Brethren’s task to make sure Fiery Absolution does not happen.”

  “And the enemies of the Brethren,” Roguemoore said, “are any who wish for Absolution. Most in Jovan’s court find great glory in their fatalistic acceptance of Fiery Absolution and do all that they can to hasten its coming. Val-Korin and the grand vicar have all but convinced your brother that he is doing Laijon’s will by just remaining patient and letting the war come to him. They connive and they convince with verse and script from The Way and Truth of Laijon, all to bolster their agenda in the minds of the nobles.”

  Culpa Barra added, “Had Jovan stayed and fought in Wyn Darrè after your father’s death, it would have bought the Brethren more time to find the weapons and stones. But with Jovan’s retreat, Aeros’ conquest was fast in coming. Borden’s main reason for fighting alongside Wyn Darrè was to buy Ser Roderic time to find the lost weapons of Laijon, to give Roguemoore more time to find where the last of Mia’s Moon Scrolls were hidden. Every move your father made was to buy time so the Brethren could stave off this needless and savage crusade of Aeros Raijael. And now Aeros is at the very brink of conquest. The scrolls of Mia speak of the weapons and stones of Laijon as a way and means to prevent Absolution.”

  Jondralyn felt her brow twist in puzzlement. Some of what the dwarf had said hinted at the things her mother had spoken of when she was pregnant with Ansel before her father had died in war. Alana’s fear had been that those councillors left around Jovan would fill his head with lofty ideas about the return of Laijon, and use him and his position as the new king of Gul Kana for their own ends. She’d been especially wary of Val-Korin and the grand vicar. That these things Roguemoore, Culpa, and Hawkwood were speaking of matched her mother’s own concerns so closely was vexing.

  But there were other things bothering her too. She asked Hawkwood, “How did you get out of the Rooms of Sorrow with the shield and stone?”

  “The map I’d committed to memory. It claimed all I need do was crawl back into the stream and let it carry me under the second wall and . . . and out into Memory Bay. But neither Roguemoore nor I could decipher where in Memory Bay I would be dumped. On that, the map was silent. Otherwise, trust me: I certainly would have tried that route instead of the harrowing one through Purgatory.”

  “So where then did the stream take you?”

  “Again, with great dread, I forced myself to venture into the water and was immediately swept under the rock, Ethic Shroud and the angel stone clenched tight in either hand, neither seeming to weigh an ounce. This time, within seconds, the rush of the stream ceased and I could see daylight twinkling off the surface of Memory Bay about twenty feet above. I kicked my way to the surface and found myself floundering, angry waves dashing me against the jagged cliff side of Mount Albion, Amadon Castle rising high above me. I clung to the rocks for a moment, gathering myself, then pulled my way along the cliff side south until I came to a small inlet with a few outbuildings clinging to the side of the rocks. There was a small dinghy tied to a rickety old dock. I waited hidden in a cleft in the rocks until darkness, stole the boat, and rowed myself out to Rockliegh Isle, the rendezvous point Culpa, Roguemoore, and I had agreed upon. Kicked a hole in the bottom of the boat. Set it adrift. Then waited.”

  Jondralyn was at a loss for words, her eyes on Ethic Shroud, wondering how much of what she had heard was to be believed. He carried this strange shield the entire way.

  “Ask any question you like,” Hawkwood said. “For tonight, here on this isle, will be the only time these things are ever spoken of again. We four are the only ones to gaze upon these treasures in a thousand years. I think the dwarf will agree that Ethic Shroud and the angel stone I found should both be returned to where I found them. Now that I know the rear entrance to the Rooms of Sorrow, I want to put them back. I made note of the cliff side. The underground stream spit me out not twenty feet below the surface. I can easily swim back into that place now.”

  “Returned? Why?”

  “Safekeeping,” Roguemoore said. “We dare not bring them out into the open yet. We dare not go traipsing around the countryside with these treasures. That mistake was made before. After Roderic found Lonesome Crown, he gave it to his brother, Torrence. And that started a war.”

  “You mean another stone and artifact have been found?”

  “They’ve all been found, Jondralyn. All but one. And Ser Roderic searches for that last one now, in Gallows Haven.”

  “I’ve so many questions,” she muttered. “But I don’t even know where to begin.”

  “If I may.” Culpa Barra bowed to her. “The White Prince’s bloody crusade through Adin Wyte and Wyn Darrè: What reason would you give for that?”

  “To take back those lands lost to the heirs of Raijael long ago,” she answered.

  “Partly true,” Culpa Barra said. “As you know, King Aevrett and those followers of Raijael in Sør Sevier also believe in Fiery Absolution and desire to hasten its fruition too. They wish for Laijon’s prophesied return as much as, or more than, those in Gul Kana do. They seek Laijon’s return in their own way, according to their own Chivalric Illuminations, through war. They believe that Raijael was the one and only offspring of Laijon and Mia, and the mantle of heaven was passed on to him and his heirs. Aevrett Raijael believes the stones and weapons are bound to come into his son’s possession before the return of Laijon. Whether the stones and weapons will be delivered to Aeros from heaven or some other way, the Illuminations are not specific. But he believes it will happen. In fact, it probably has happened. He had his son invade Wyn Darrè to gain possession of one of these artifacts.”

  “I always believed Aeros’ crusade was to take back lands believed stolen from Sør Sevier,” Jondralyn said. “It is what my father told me.”

  “That is what Borden would have everyone believe,” the dwarf said. “But he was one of the Brethren. He knew exactly what Aeros Raijael and his father were after. Lonesome Crown and one of the angel stones are in possession of King Torrence Raybourne. Aevrett and Aeros Raijael desire these treasures. With Wyn Darrè almost completely destroyed, rumors now filtering in of King Torrence’s death, Aeros may already have Lonesome Crown.”

  Culpa Barra added, “The Brethren of Mia have long believed that the five angel stones and weapons of the Warrior Angels were hidden by the Blessed Mother sometime after Laijon’s death. The Moon Scrolls of Mia bear this out. Mia left clues within the scrolls as to where she hid the weapons and stones. Each in a different location, each hidden deep. There is one man in the Brethren who has dedicated his life to studying the scrolls and finding the angel stones and weapons. Three of them he’s found. One of those, the sword Afflicted Fire, I personally helped him find at Deadwood Gate over five years ago. The angel stone I saw then was exactly like the one Hawkwood has just found, but red as flame. Before that, Shawcroft found the crossbow Blackest Heart high above the Sky Lochs. The fourth one, the battle-ax Forgetting Moon, he searches for now in Gallows Haven. Both Forgetting Moon and Ethic Shroud have always eluded him. Now, thanks to the Moon Scrolls Squireck stole for us, Hawkwood has found the shield here under Amadon Castle.”

  “Who is this man Shawcroft who spent his entire life looking for the stones?” Jondralyn asked, eyes on the brilliant white shield still on the bench. “You mentioned Ser Roderic before, Culpa. Is it him?”

  “Yes. Ser Roderic Raybourne of Wyn Darrè. It is he who found Lonesome Crown, Blackest Heart, and Afflicted Fire. He left Blackest Heart in Sky Lochs, Afflicted Fire in Deadwood Gate. Lonesome Crown he found first, twenty years ago, and gave it to his brother, King Torrence. Though Torrence held this treasure in secret, Sør Sevier spies caught wind of it. And like I said, Aeros Raijael’s father was most desirous to possess it.”

  “Sør Sevier invaded Wyn Darrè for an angel
stone and the helmet of Laijon that Ser Roderic found?”

  “Partly, yes,” Roguemoore answered.

  “Ser Roderic was one of Father’s Dayknights when I was a little girl. I barely remember him. He just seemed to disappear. Rumor was he was exiled from his brother’s court and just vanished.”

  “Rumor was.” The dwarf nodded.

  “I ran into him once soon after his exile,” Hawkwood said, something approaching admiration in his voice. “About fourteen years ago.”

  Roguemoore took Jondralyn’s hand. His skin was rough against hers as he clenched her fingers tight. There was a penetrating look in his eyes she had never seen before as he said, “There is more you need know about the Brethren of Mia, Jon. In fact, there is more you need to know about yourself. The Way and Truth of Laijon speaks of the return of Laijon during the time of Fiery Absolution. But The Moon Scrolls of Mia that our Blessed Mother penned speaks of the return of all five Warrior Angels. Not just Laijon.”

  “How does this affect me? What does it have to do with the Brethren?”

  “We have found the five,” Roguemoore answered. “They are all alive, now, living among us. The Princess, the Gladiator, the Assassin, the Thief, and most importantly the Slave. Each a descendent of one of the Five Warrior Angels, each tied to one of the Five Isles by blood, each ready to play a part in summoning forth the true heir of Laijon and bringing about his return as the Moon Scrolls have foretold.”

  A shiver ran up her spine. “I don’t understand.”

  A grin grew out of the dwarf’s grizzled beard. “You, Jondralyn Bronachell, are one of the Five Warrior Angels reborn. The Princess, wielder of Afflicted Fire.”

  Jondralyn was trembling, trembling with fear rather than understanding. Her mind recalled one of the scriptures from The Way and Truth of Laijon, a snippet from the Book of the Cross. Something about the Five Warrior Angels gathered in a grove of trees and an abominable magical darkness that had overtaken them. They thought they were dead, prayed for life, and saw a bright light above that defied all description. It was angels descending toward them, bearing five colorful stones and five mighty gifts: a red stone and a sword for the Princess, a white stone and pearl-colored shield for the Thief, a black stone and a black crossbow for the Assassin, a green stone and a war helm for the Gladiator, and lastly, a blue stone and an ax for the King of Slaves. She could not recall the exact words of the scripture but remembered the gist of it.

  A sword for the Princess. She had always liked that part of the scripture as a child, imagining a princess wielding a magical sword beside Laijon, fighting for truth and justice. Afflicted Fire. If the dwarf thought she was the Princess reborn, then who were the other Warrior Angels?

  Hawkwood offered the faintest of smiles. “I know what you are thinking. For I thought the same thing when Roguemoore told me I too was one of the Five Warrior Angels reborn, the Assassin, future wielder of Blackest Heart.”

  “And Squireck Van Hester, the Gladiator,” Culpa Barra added. “Wearer of Lonesome Crown.”

  “I can hardly believe any of this,” she muttered, heart thumping, hoping what they said might be true, because it was wildly fanciful and exciting. But she was unable to quite grasp it all. She searched the dwarf’s eyes, looking for deception, finding conviction. Culpa Barra looked at her expectantly. Hawkwood was unreadable. But clearly he believed. The Assassin? It frightened her. And me the Princess!

  “The King of Slaves?” she asked. “Who? And the Thief?”

  Roguemoore answered her. “The one who is to wield Forgetting Moon, the King of Slaves reborn, is being watched over now. At your father’s behest, he was found as a babe, then hidden. Seventeen years ago it was. He will remain hidden until the time is right to reveal his identity. Royal is his bloodline. More royal and secret than any.”

  “And Ethic Shroud is now found.” Hawkwood motioned to the shield resting on the stone bench. “Reserved for the Thief, one whom you know, one whom you’ve been told to keep close.”

  “Val-Draekin?” She looked at all three men in turn, then at the shield.

  “Yes. Val-Draekin.” The dwarf looked at her firmly. “Though I’ve had my doubts. And I do not fully trust him yet. He’s told me that there is division amongst the Vallè. He claims the armies of the Val Vallè will only help Gul Kana fight against the White Prince if Jovan is removed from the Silver Throne. He says Val-Korin is in strong disagreement with his countrymen. Val-Korin supports Jovan. It is a quandary.”

  Her heart thudded. This is why Roguemoore wanted me to keep Val-Draekin close. He thinks that the Vallè is a descendent of one of the Five Warrior Angels.

  And I am a descendent too? Then her heart really pounded as she came to the realization that the blood of one of the Five Warrior Angels possibly flowed in her. Everyone knew the stories of the Five Warrior Angels. The Way and Truth of Laijon hinted at the five as the Princess, Gladiator, Thief, Assassin, and Slave. But other than Laijon, known as the Slave, or sometimes as the King of Slaves, the scriptures had never mentioned the names of the other four Warrior Angels. Roguemoore had claimed she was a descendent of one of the Warrior Angels. But how could he know?

  She realized Roguemoore still held her hand when he squeezed it, saying, “According to The Moon Scrolls of Mia, in the last days, the Princess, wielding Afflicted Fire, will lead vast armies against those who threaten to destroy Amadon. You, Jon, are that princess. The Princess who will lead all armies. Jovan is right to fear you. Soon Aeros Raijael will fear you too.”

  Jondralyn slipped her hand from the dwarf’s grasp and took a few steps back, looking out the door of the small abbey. “Trust no one” was the Brethren’s motto.

  “I know this is a lot to take in,” Roguemoore said in a tone of finality. “You can ask Culpa any question that may arise. But Hawkwood and I are leaving to meet Ser Roderic and Hugh Godwyn, another of the Brethren of Mia, at the Swithen Wells Trail Abbey on the morrow. We plan on returning to Sky Lochs and Deadwood Gate with Ser Roderic to retrieve the stones and weapons Roderic left there and prepare to battle the White Prince. In his last letter, Roderic claimed he’d finally broken the code to circumventing the traps around the altar that holds the Forgetting Moon. He claimed he was close to breaking the seal to the tomb holding that relic. I am as nervous as I am excited. The quest to gather the angel stones and weapons Ser Roderic has found is finally underway.”

  “It has been years, if not decades in the coming,” Culpa Barra said. “We should rejoice that the task has fallen to us, in our time. We should fall to our knees and give thanks to Laijon that a man such as Ser Roderic Raybourne dedicated so much of his life to finding those things hidden for so long.”

  “Indeed,” the dwarf said gravely. “Many of the Brethren have toiled, suffered, and died to prepare the way. Deadwood Gate. Sky Lochs. Gallows Haven. But it was the final scrolls Squireck stole, combined with the scrolls already found by my brother, Ironcloud, that have proved most valuable to us here and now. They led us to the Rooms of Sorrow in the catacombs under Purgatory.”

  Hawkwood added, “And now Squireck’s efforts in the arena may very well prove to be the Brethren’s greatest accomplishment of all.”

  Jondralyn hung her head whenever anyone made mention of Squireck Van Hester. She found strength and good quality in both Hawkwood and Squireck. But at the same time she wondered if everything they were involved in, all things associated with the Brethren of Mia, wasn’t just so much craziness. But what was it Roguemoore had called her? The Princess who will lead all armies. She did like the sound of that. She could see the world around her made right with a title like that!

  “Your clothes and a fresh cloak lie under the tarp in the second boat,” Culpa Barra said to Hawkwood. “Your cutlasses and harnesses along with your brace of knives and shortsword are there too.” He turned to the dwarf. “Plus, there are enough dried oatcakes and cheese to last your journey. Remember, all roads are being watched. Sterling will focus most of his search efforts f
or Hawkwood along the main routes in the north. He’s only set a few to search for Hawkwood by water. Traveling to Lord’s Point along the King’s Highway is out of the question. The tolls are garrisoned with Silver Guards, Dayknights, even Wolf Guards from Rivermeade at times. They are all on the lookout for Hawkwood. Sterling’s made arrangements for the horses, palfreys for hard traveling, but you’ll have to sail to Eskander to get them. I suggest you two leave with utmost haste, especially if you plan on taking our treasures back to the Rooms of Sorrow. After that, six days afloat at most. I’ve brought you a fast vessel. From Eskander, head south to Swithen Wells and the Swithen Wells Pass into the Autumn Range. You won’t miss the abbey as long as you keep to the trail. The entire journey shouldn’t take you more than fourteen or fifteen days. I traveled the route with my father once to visit Godwyn and Ser Roderic. It is not a bad trail, weather permitting. From there continue to Lord’s Point. If you become separated, I’ve arranged with Ironcloud for the rendezvous point to be the Turn Key Saloon in Lord’s Point. From there you can sail north to Stanclyffe and head east to the Sky Lochs.”

  “A saloon?” the dwarf asked flatly.

  “Ironcloud sent word that is where he would await you.”

  “My brother has a knack for choosing the worst of inns,” Roguemoore grunted, stroking the wiry, grizzled hair of his beard. “The Turn Key Saloon. I can picture it now. A place most assuredly to be run by the dregs of society.”

  Hawkwood’s eyes narrowed fiercely. He was quickly at the abbey’s open door, eyes peering into the darkness. “Something moves against the rocks under the lighthouse,” he hissed. “We’re about to be compromised.” He turned back to Culpa Barra. “Were you followed?”

  “Let’s hope it’s just a stray goat.” Culpa hustled to the door. With his back to the wall, he craned his neck around the opening for a look himself. “Or perhaps just the lighthouse keeper. There are no other boats ashore that I can see.”

  “Someone from the tunnels?” Hawkwood cast a concerned look at the dwarf.