Hope

by Sam Rook

  He played his part, bowing his head, begging for forgiveness. The Master thought he had the upper hand, but he was sadly mistaken. Borith would let him do all of the work, then claim his rightful place when the Portal opened.

  "So, you’ve guaranteed our commission by the Knighthood?" the burly smith asked suspiciously.

  Borith remained standing against the wall, an intimidating shadow behind his master.

  "Of course you’re guaranteed the commission. Who else but the Smith’s Guild would be asked to replenish the Knighthood’s weaponry?" Borith’s master said with contempt.

  "Excellent. Now, about the information you wanted. I think we found something you might be interested in."

  His master didn’t disguise the impatience in his voice. "What is it?"

  "We believe we know how the Orb was stolen. One of the Council, Melekir, stole it from the chamber himself. He sold it to another, but we were unable to find out whom. I’m sure if you ask him nice, he’ll tell you all about it. Is that information adequate to settle our arrangement?" The smith swayed from foot to foot.

  "Yes, it’s adequate, but be warned. If you’ve created this story like you create your swords, I’ll cut off your hands and make you watch other men make swords for the rest of your short life."

  Borith smiled. He didn’t doubt his master was capable of such a thing.

  The blacksmith cowered. "The story is genuine. I don’t lie."

  "Very well. Then be on your way and enjoy your new commission."

  Chapter 30

  "I’ve heard he hasn’t had a girlfriend since he Declared." One of the first year knights gestured to Sir Lanclor sitting across the room.

  The meal hall was half-full and Sir Lanclor sat alone. He rarely ate with the other knights, Kathryn noticed, and when he did, it was always without company.

  "It’s not hard to see why," another first year responded, "when you’re the Soulbearer of the Betrayer, women aren’t exactly knocking down your door." They chuckled.

  Kathryn remained silent. As an outsider, she didn’t understand the reasoning behind the grudge. She didn’t need to make any enemies among the knights.

  "They don’t seem to be knocking down your door either. What’s your excuse?" Hal said between a mouthful of bread and fruit.

  The knight stiffened. Hal had proven himself on the practice field and none of the first year knights chose to challenge him by responding.

  "C’mon Kate. The air seems a little stuffy in here." Hal grabbed his tray and Kathryn followed him out of the meal room. "People like that make me sick. They don’t even know Sir Lanclor yet they think they know everything there is to know about him."

  "You don’t know him either." Kathryn pointed out after she caught up to his long stride.

  "No, I don’t, but I know the type. There was a guy on the force that never really talked much. Carter was a big guy, about a foot taller than I was, and he could outshoot everyone. Some rookie made a snide remark one day within earshot about him being too quiet to have a decent woman. Carter grabbed him by the neck and held him a foot off the ground against a locker until he apologized.

  "I decided to ask Carter about it the next day over a beer and it turns out Carter’s wife of 10 years had died from cancer the year before. He just chose not to broadcast it to the entire force." Hal stopped walking and leaned against the hallway wall. "Sir Lanclor reminds me a lot of Carter. He sits at that lunch table by himself because he doesn’t see the point of trying to befriend the others. He knows they’ll judge him and he really doesn’t care if he has their friendship. Respect is what he needs to keep everyone in line and he has plenty of it."

  Kathryn leaned against the wall next to him. "Do you miss Earth, Hal?"

  Hal stood in silence for a minute. "I miss some of the people and the creature comforts. I feel like I’m making a difference here though. It’s been a long time since I felt that way back home."

  "I know what you mean. I can’t even imagine sitting in a cubicle and staring at a computer all day. What was the point?" Kathryn frowned, pushing away from the wall. "It’s almost time for drill. We should go."

  "Elena, what’s a Soulbearer?" Kathryn asked while feeding the mouse some of her leftover meat.

  Elena looked up from scrubbing the tub then placed the cloth on the floor. Rising, she walked over and sat next to Kathryn on the bed. "The easiest way to explain it is someone who now holds the memories of somebody who died."

  "What does ‘declare’ mean?"

  "When a knight Declares, it means he announces himself a bearer of an old knight or mage. There’s a spell to verify the declaration. Once the knight accepts that he’s a Bearer, whatever magic that carries on the memories of the fallen are released into him. The spell of verification is really just so other people can verify those memories exist and he’s telling the truth. The knight is really a Soulbearer the minute he accepts the fact. The memories flood into him, or so I’ve heard."

  Jakob.

  "Do you personally know a Soulbearer? Is that how you heard about it?"

  "Not personally, no." Elena looked down at her hands. "My husband was friends with Sir Lanclor and Lord Alextor before they Declared. They seemed like regular knights to everyone else, but Kris knew there was something different about them. Lord Alextor had other knights following him around by his third cycle. There was something about him that electrified the others with loyalty. He’s a likeable person and very smart.

  Sir Lanclor on the other hand was inhumanly good with his sword. By his second cycle, he had bested every knight. Kris said he was the nicest guy he had ever met. Sir Lanclor would do anything to help out other knights and always impressed the ladies with his charming smile."

  "Sir Lanclor? He doesn’t exactly emanate ‘nice guy’ to me." Kathryn played with the tufts on the mouse’s tail while he chased her finger in circles. The little guy would lick her finger whenever he caught it.

  "I wouldn’t have believed it either, but Kris was the most honest man I’ve ever known. When Sir Lanclor and Lord Alextor both Declared during their fourth cycle, everything changed. Kris asked Sir Lanclor about it and Sir Lanclor told him about the day he accepted he was a Soulbearer.

  "One night, he sat on his bed and just accepted that the weird things he’d been remembering weren’t his own memories. The memories flooded into him and he saw himself betraying the king. Sir Lanclor associated that with his current life and was afraid he would betray Lord Alextor. After that, he pushed everyone away, especially Lord Alextor. Kris said he rarely saw Sir Lanclor smile after that." Elena stood and walked back over to the tub.

  "I was just thinking, Lanclor reminds me of the name Lancelot from Earth. From the King Arthur legends." Kathryn, petting the mouse, froze. "Lancelot is the Betrayer."

  Elena laughed. "Lancelot and King Arthur are legends. The original settlers here were romantics and assigned their names to the knights in an attempt to cope. Lancelot back then, or whatever his real name was, disobeyed an order from the king that cost the lives of an entire village. It was an honest mistake, but it was the first of many. I don’t think he should be blamed for using tactics that worked on Earth but didn’t apply here."

  Elena knelt, picked up the cloth and resumed cleaning the bathtub. "It’s tradition for the Soulbearers to adopt a similar name to the ones they Bear and discard their birth name. Anyway, the history doesn’t really matter anymore. I never understood why Sir Lanclor let the memories control his life. It’s not as if he betrayed the king and killed everyone. It was some guy who died centuries ago."

  "Does everyone feel the same way as you? If so, what’s the big deal?" It reminded Kathryn of the old stories about blood feuds where medieval families would hold a grudge across generations.

  "I’d like to think everyone felt the same way, but there are groups who want to hold Sir Lanclor responsible for everything that’s gone wrong. A crop fails and they’ll find some reason to blame it on him." Elena gathered her things. "I have
six other rooms to clean and it’s already past lunch. Be safe, Lady Kathryn." Elena smiled and left before Kathryn could respond.

  Chapter 31

  "What seems to be the problem here?" Guardsman Mikael asked in a no-nonsense tone beside Lanclor. The man he addressed pointed a dagger at an herb vendor.

  "Viscer is charging too much for this herb! My wife has severe burns and this is the only herb that will prevent infection. Viscer’s charging triple its normal price!" Quinas the blacksmith complained, almost in tears.

  "I don’t have a choice," Viscer said in a defeated voice. "The Council seized most of my crop when I couldn’t pay their higher taxes. I’m barely making enough money to feed my children, much less make any profit." He held his hands out to the side and shook his head.

  "Quinas, why don’t you spend your money on a healer instead of herbs?" Lanclor asked the blacksmith, bewildered by him trying to treat the burns instead of having them healed.

  "I tried, but the Council refused to give me a voucher for healing. They said it was the ‘will of the Goddess’ and a healing couldn’t be justified. The healers won’t even try to heal someone without a voucher now since so many of them were arrested last week," Quinas explained in a disgusted voice.

  "A voucher for healing? Are you kidding? What arrests? Who carried them out?" Mikael said.

  Lanclor knew many people complained about the most recent Council laws, but restricting healing intentionally left people to suffer. Immoral bastards. In the past, there was a short time when the Council had done something similar, but they quickly withdrew it after a small rebellion ensued. The rebellion ended with many lives lost and a truce between the rebel leader and the Council. He prayed they’d not see history repeat itself.

  "No, I’d never joke about this type of thing. I don’t understand what you mean about the arrests. The Royal Guard took care of them, who else? The Council arrested seven healers from the East District last week for charges of healing without Council permission. They penalized their families with fines. If they couldn’t pay, then the Royal Guard seized either their livestock or portions of their crop and delivered them to the Council for distribution."

  Mikael shook his head. "That can’t be right. The Royal Guard wouldn’t—"

  "No, he's telling you the truth. I was there when it happened," Viscer said calmly. "They were Royal Guardsmen, complete with armor, swords and the crests of your order. They did have red armbands, now that I think about it. Does that mean anything to you?"

  Lanclor had never heard of any additional display of rank among the Royal Guard beyond the traditional armor and sword. Something was wrong here.

  Mikael seemed just as puzzled. "I’ll have to discuss this with Guard-Commander Warren. In the meantime, we need to come up with a compromise between the two of you." He looked at Viscer. "Is there some type of smith work you need that Quinas can provide to reduce the price of the herb?"

  "My horse has needed new shoes for months now. If he’ll do that for me, I’ll provide him with the herb free. He can have it up front so his wife doesn't have to suffer in the meantime."

  "Quinas, is that acceptable for you?"

  "Yes, I guess that's about right. If I remember your horse, he's easy to work with and I wouldn't have to add any type of extra safety charge. I never thought to barter my trade," Quinas said sheepishly. "I'm sorry for threatening you, Viscer."

  "It's fine, Quinas. I'm just glad Guardsman Mikael and Sir Lanclor came along. I thank you for saving my hide," Viscer said sincerely, avoiding eye contact with Lanclor.

  Viscer surely wouldn’t have been the victor in the fight with the burly blacksmith. "Just remember, we're all dealing with hard times. Compromising is the only way we're going to get through this without bloodshed." Mikael nodded to them both, and then they took their leave.

  They entered Knight-Commander Warren's workroom hours later to find out about the Royal Guardsmen with the red armbands responsible for the arrest of the healers.

  "Sir, I was hoping you could help me get to the bottom of a mystery. I've been told there are Royal Guardsmen with red arm bands arresting healers and enforcing some voucher law made by the Council." Mikael crossed his arms and glared at the commander.

  "Yes, I can help you, although I’m not happy about it at all. As you know, the Guard is responsible for enforcing the laws of Av'lor and the Council creates those laws. We found the tortured bodies of several Councilmen a few weeks ago. A survivor said the group responsible asked about an orb and tortured the others when they couldn’t tell them about it."

  Lanclor stiffened with the news. Someone searched for the orb and thought the Council had it. Why would they want to open the portal? Surely, one of the members had given up its location. Torture worked to loosen tongues.

  "The Council hasn't made any new laws in the past decade or so, but now they've decided to start so they can protect themselves. They’ve implemented a whole bunch of new laws regarding magic restrictions. They requested an elite squad of Guardsmen to enforce these laws and I've had no choice but to comply. These Guards answer directly to the Council."

  "I don't understand how you can force Guardsmen to enforce these ridiculous laws. I just spoke—"

  "No, I'm not forcing Guardsmen to do anything! All the members of this squad are volunteers. I fear the Council has approached them on their own and offered them something to volunteer, but I can't prove anything."

  "This just isn't right. You know it isn't right!" Mikael leaned on the desk toward the Guard-Commander.

  "Easy, Mikael, be careful. The Council is responsible for our funding. We’re restricted to following the laws that they create for the good of the people. I'm not sure how this is good for the people, but I have to follow orders until someone legally contests the laws. You know me better than to think I would willingly do something that I don't think is morally right."

  Lanclor placed a restraining hand upon Mikael’s shoulder.

  "I—yes, Sir, you're right. I spoke out of anger for the situation, not at you. With your permission, I’ll now take my leave." Mikael looked down, his shoulder stiffening.

  The Guard-Commander granted it and Mikael left the room, leaving Lanclor behind to face Warren’s defeated look. Lanclor cleared his throat. "You know, I don’t think he’s going to remain under your control for very long."

  Warren sighed. "I know. He’s better than this. I can feel his disappointment that we now stand for laws he doesn’t believe in. If I had the option of stepping down, I would, but you know how things are."

  "Yes. I do. The responsibility of a commander is like no other."

  Chapter 32

  Kathryn remembered her conversation with Hal a short while ago before he joined Hook’s squad to investigate Southker village. She’d been furious that Sir Lanclor had excluded her from yet another battle.

  "Hal, I think Sir Lanclor is being a sexist pig, not allowing me to participate in the battle. It’s probably just like the Middle Ages on Earth when men were stupid enough to think they were better than women." She said this last thing with a grin. A part of her envied Hal’s freedom to participate in the battles, while the other was glad to avoid the violence.

  Lady Kathryn, prepare for battle and report to the main courtyard. Sir Lanclor’s Communication brooked no argument as it interrupted her reverie.

  Kathryn jumped from her desk chair and summoned her armor. Throwing open the door to the balcony, she jumped over the edge and spread her wings. Her heart pounded while she glided down to the courtyard and stood at attention until Derrek ordered her to the rear of his squad, among his graywing section. Hal was among the brownwings, but she didn’t have time to Communicate to him before Derrek gave the verbal order to take flight.

  As they flew south, Derrek Communicated the current situation with the village. Their squad was to join with Hook’s in providing the village with safety until another squad moved the villagers. Hook would have full control over the graywings and would issue the
orders for the patrols of the area.

  Derrek’s squad was the size of two regular brownwing squads because it contained a significant number of graywings and healers. They would handle the patrols while Seri’s mounted squad would handle the evacuation of the villagers. Seri’s squad consisted of fifty mounted knights who could take flight if necessary. Her squad specialized in Daemon ground warfare.

  They reached the village as the sun began to dip behind the mountains. It would be a full two hours before night fell. Hook’s squad was in the process of putting the Daemon’s in one pile and the slain villagers in another. If the bodies remained where they were, the orcs in the area would gather here and claim the village land as their own. Removing orcs from an area involved time and patience, neither of which anyone could afford right now.

  The burning of bodies was common practice on Av’lor. Av'lorians believed a person’s soul returned to the Goddess and left the body an empty shell in death. They mourned the death of a loved one, but celebrated their deeds in hopes the Goddess would forgive any sins. Kathryn wasn’t sure she could stand to watch her Mom's body burn. Not that it was any easier watching them close the lid of the casket.

  After they landed, Hook approached Derrek and clasped arms with him. Hook ordered Hal to return to his squad and he gave a small nod to Kathryn before he jogged over to Lesair. Derrek’s task involved taking the majority of his squad, including all of the graywings, to patrol the southern region around the village. The healers would remain with Hook to care for his wounded. Patrols rarely went beyond this village, so this would be new territory to cover. The knights would move the villagers within the hour, so their patrol would only cover a small area to ensure a Daemon patrol wasn’t waiting to strike at their backs.