The Chalice

by Paul Latham

  Velar dismounted and lead Akeil to the brink of the thicket. With some work, he cleared a corridor with his sword and guided his mount through to the relatively clear space beyond. The ground felt firm and with the tip of his sword, Velar discovered stones set to form a pathway or road that lead to a dark structure sulking in the dusk.

  Before starting forward, Velar cast a wary glance at the revenants who still only stood and watched. The air felt dead. Velar fixed his eyes on the yellow glow that emanated from the open door of the building. As he drew closer, details became apparent. Two stories. Cut stone. Rotting woodwork and twisting vines that climbed the walls and smothered carvings and statuettes perched and suspended on eaves and overhangs.

  A bird called out a screeching cry and Velar spun around, sword ready. The road behind lay empty and Velar hissed through his teeth and shook his head in disgust. Turning, he leads Akeil to the foot of the wide steps that garnished the center of the manor and secured the reins to one of the stone guardians. Quickly, he mounted the steps but halfway up he paused, looked at the sword in his hand then sheathed it. Someone waited, and he somehow doubted they harbored ill intent. At least not for now.

  He finished the climb and stood before the open door, allowing his eyes to become adjusted to the blaze of light from within. Slowly Velar approached the portal. He could see sconces burning on the walls providing the light which showed the pitiful state of the interior. Peeling walls, sagging ceilings and warped woods. The glory had evacuated this place and Velar wondered why. Loves, hopes, furies, hates, echoes of an unknown past assailed his imagination.

  Velar stepped inside, into the foyer. Directly ahead lay a parlor or sitting room. To his left, a hallway extended into darkness with doors marking its length. To his right, a large room lit not only by sconces but a huge hearth that covered the far wall. A long, elegant table stretched across the chamber, clean and polished and out of place in its framework of destruction. Two plush chairs, one at each end of the table, sat waiting.

  Velar looked to the ceilings and the winding staircase that lead to the second floor.

  What to do?

  The space two paces before him twisted and Velar took a step back hand instinctively snapping to his sword grip. Red and yellow lights swirled and coalesced into form. Slowly, features became apparent and the woman before him smiled and lifted her hands to show them free of weapons.

  "Greetings, Velar," she said, her voice smoky and deep.

  Velar eased out of his defensive posture. She knew his name, but he could hazard a guess, a very good guess and perhaps even the ground a bit.

  "Greetings, Lady Gelai," he offered, and gave a courtly nod of his head.

  "Well at least we know one another." She smiled again. "Or at least, of one another."

  She was radiant. Tall with red hair, dark eyes and wearing a brilliant green gown. Tiny wrinkles at her eyes and the corners of her mouth belied her age otherwise he would have approximated her harvest close to his own. Strangely beautiful.

  She shimmered. Not her dress or eyes but her entire being. Velar suddenly realized he could see through her somewhat into the dining chamber beyond.

  "You're projecting," Velar stated.

  Gelai nodded her head, obviously impressed. "Yes, I am."

  Teacher had explained such things, even demonstrated once. It took a level of discipline far beyond Velar's current abilities to achieve. She had no need to know that though.

  "I thought we should speak," Gelai said.

  "What of?"

  She gave him a slim smile. "Oh, I think you know what of," she said.

  "I fail to see the need for discussion."

  "Come now, Velar." Gelai stepped to him and put her ghostly hand at his elbow. "We must make every effort to be civilized." She guided him to the dining table. "It's a responsibility we inherit as higher forms of animal."

  "I could argue the point," Velar commented dryly.

  "Could you?" Gelai said. "How refreshing." Approaching one end of the table, they paused. Gelai reached out with her free hand and patted the cushioned back of the chair. "Manners, Velar."

  "My apologies," Velar stated and stepped around her shimmering image to pull back the chair. With a flourish of skirts, Gelai settled herself and Velar eased the chair forward then moved to the opposite end of the table, seated himself and waited.

  "I must admit I'm a bit incredulous," Gelai began. "I have several methods of restraint available in case you had no intention of cooperating."

  Velar shrugged. "I can only learn."

  Gelai mimicked his shrug. "You could easily die."

  Velar smiled. "The Chancellor would send another, and you would have accomplished nothing."

  "Not necessarily." Her eyes narrowed. "I would gain time."

  "For what? To find the Chalice for yourself?" Velar shook his head. "I believe certain temptations would follow. I think your organization would prefer that the Chalice remain where it is."

  "So, I'll continue killing your knights as they leave the city."

  "Eventually someone will find the Chalice. Most likely while your attention is diverted elsewhere."

  "So?"

  "So, you've waylaid me in an effort to postpone that eventuality. Most likely with offers of gold. I wander aimlessly and send an occasional note to Sareon stating I'm one step closer and still alive. No more knights are quested, and you can concentrate on other threats."

  Gelai glared and drummed her noncorporal fingers silently on the tabletop. "How very astute, Velar. But did you perhaps think that I might attempt to reason with you."

  "No, I did not."

  A smile slowly formed on her thin lips. "No, I guess you wouldn't, would you? You are, after all, a warrior. A Knight of Anocren. Honor bound and unswerving in your loyalty to lords and generals. Questing without delay or fear towards an impossible goal all for the sake of duty." She rose gracefully to her feet. "Unthinking. Unknowing. Uncaring." Slowly she rested her hands on the table and leaned forward, eyes filled with menace. "Is that you, Velar?"

  "Yes," Velar said, meeting her gaze. "It is."

  Gelai sneered. "I think not."

  "Think what you will."

  Gelai snapped to her full height and crossed her arms. "Honor and duty are nothing more than the avoidance of personal responsibility?"

  Velar felt his face flush red. "There's no truth in that."

  "Oh, isn't there?" She spread her arms wide in an all-encompassing gesture. "Wars are fought over duty and honor."

  "No. Wars are born out of misguided political energies much like those that guide you."

  There. He had turned it around a bit.

  "And honor and duty?" Gelai continued. "What do they serve then?"

  "The men who cherish them."

  Gelai threw up her hands and collapsed back into her chair. "Hopeless," she sighed. "Utterly hopeless." She shook her head. "Do you have any comprehension as to the destructive capabilities of the Chalice?"

  Velar interlaced his fingers and leaned forward. "The Secultariates believe the Chalice is the key to a lasting peace. Whom am I to believe?"

  Gelai nodded. "No one would be my guess. You blindly go where they tell you, announcing in earshot of bards that duty calls." She gave a short laugh followed by a perfectly sullen expression. "How pathetic."

  Suddenly, she straightened herself, smoothing her hands across the green folds of her gown. "They saved you, didn't they? One of your order pulled you from a fire when you were young. That's where the scar is from. That's why you harbor such intense loyalty."

  Velar fought down the traditional blush that normally accompanied a comment on his scar. "Actually, I pulled myself from the fire. I wasn't discovered by the order until two harvests later."

  Gelai slowly nodded, her tongue probing the inside of her cheek. "Well, I am disappointed. I had hoped for more . . . progress. But you are very well versed in established rhetoric."

  Velar stiffened. "Rhetoric?"

 
Gelai feigned shock. "Oh, I do apologize. I did not intend to insult your beliefs. Test them perhaps. But never insult."

  Velar rose to his feet. "Test?"

  Gelai smiled coyly and bit the end of her finger.

  Her eyes sparked. Her image shifted.

  Before the hearth where the fire roared and cackled, Velar saw them materialize. Two revenants. And Shilandra between them.

  "What kind of test, Gelai?" Velar demanded.

  Gelai cackled. "We are not that different, Velar. We both have our loyalties. We both have our reasons. The only question that remains is how far do we go? At what point do we set our loyalties aside and forsake our reasons?"

  "Which, at this juncture, is more important, Velar? Your search for the Chalice? Or the life of this pitiful little girl?"

  Velar looked to Shilandra. Her right eye was swollen shut and she trembled in the grip of her captors, eyes darting from Gelai to Velar and back again like a cornered doe.

  "You have generated an interesting point," Velar said evenly, forcing a calm he did not feel.

  "Yes, I have," Gelai said. "My servants will tear her apart and cast the pieces into the blaze behind them."

  Shilandra uttered a meek cry of despair.

  Velar shifted his gaze to Gelai. "And if I state that I will leave and discontinue my search for the Chalice?"

  Gelai nodded. "If you were to travel west let's say, beyond Eshlex, beyond Vrolos, into the wilds of Cronor. You may find this girl in the city of Cratosh unharmed and alive."

  Velar nodded. "That along with the aforementioned scroll sent to the Aylos hierarchy stating my imagined progress?"

  "I would even relieve you of that detail and forge such documents myself. You and she can start a new life together in the frontier. "Your looks complement one another. You'd make a charming pair."

  Velar crossed his arms. "Why not kill us both?"

  "Please," Gelai scoffed. "We are attempting to maintain at least a sense of civility. Besides. You may be required to make an appearance or two." She wrinkled her nose briefly. "Every now and again."

  Velar nodded.

  A window three, maybe five paces behind him. The revenants stood with their backs to the fire and in essence shielded Shilandra. Gelai projected so the threat from her was diminished.

  "Oh, come now, Velar," Gelai snapped. "the options are fairly evident."

  "True," he said. "Very true."

  His mind cleared. He focused. He set his thoughts to states and the states formed the energies and energies shaped reality.

  A force . . . expanding in the foyer . . . injecting a sharp gust of air into the dining chamber extinguishing the sconces and blowing the flames of the hearth into the flume.

  "Don't be foolish, Velar," Gelai quipped, her eyes glowing red in the semi-darkness.

  Flame . . . growing, feeding, reaching . . . from the flume to the hearth and out, instantly enveloping Shilandra and the revenants.

  "Velar!" Gelai screamed.

  Shilandra shrieked and the revenants twisted away as their cloaks burst into flames. Velar took a step back and up onto the chair, stepped to the table and launched towards the nearest revenant slamming his body into the creature, plunging it into the fire. Velar fell hard to the stone floor and rolled to his feet.

  "My hair!" Shilandra screamed. Velar swirled his cloak from his shoulders and enveloped her upper body with the thick cloth. Scooping her into his arms, he dashed for the window.

  Cut glass panes set in a lattice work of soft metals. Velar set his teeth and after two bounding steps he jumped and twisted to put his back through the window. The glass shattered and Shilandra screamed but they did not fall through. The soft metal frame bent to conform to Velar's back perfectly, but it did not break. Stunned, with Shilandra squirming violently in his arms, Velar looked down at a smiling Gelai and a smoldering revenant.

  "A worthy effort," Gelai said. "Monumental, even."

  The revenant's green eyes flared, and its hand rose. A blaze of pure light erupted from its palm and Velar hunched forward cradling Shilandra on his knees, struggling to remain balanced on the sill. Behind and above, metal and wood sizzled and vaporized.

  "Idiot!" Gelai screamed.

  Velar had to stand or fall into the room. Velar rose, Shilandra kicked and they fell back, through the hole the revenant created and outside. Velar felt the air vacate his lungs as they hit the ground with Shilandra on top.

  "I can't breathe under here," came a muffled scream from beneath his cloak. Velar gasped and coughed as bile erupted into his gorge.

  Had to move. Get up. Find Akeil.

  With Shilandra still struggling in his arms, he gathered his legs beneath him. Blue and yellow lights blasted from the window followed by desolate, soul-wrenching screams. Staggering, Velar forced his way through undergrowth toward the front entrance. Spots and blobs clouding his vision, but he saw Akeil, waiting, ears perked.

  With some effort, Velar draped Shilandra over Akeil's neck then swung himself onto the saddle and pulled Shilandra into a more secure position in his lap.

  "Velar."

  He looked to the entrance. Gelai stood there, shimmering, eyes burning red.

  "You haven't escaped me," she said evenly.

  Velar looked to the shattered window where colored lights still flexed and ebbed. Slowly, he shifted his tired gaze back to her projection.

  "I have today," he said and spurred Akeil away into the dark forest.

  Chapter Eleven

  The revenants could still bar the road.

  Velar leaned forward over Shilandra to avoid the thick canopy of trees overhead. The dark forest lay silent and ominous.

  He couldn't see the stars to tell his direction and hoped he had not turned around a tree and steadily marched forth into the hands of the adversaries.

  "I can't breathe under here!" came a muffled scream. Velar worked the cloak away from her head. Coughing, Shilandra gasped for air.

  "Let me up," she wheezed.

  Growling, Velar pulled Akeil to a stop and helped Shilandra turn and raise herself to a sitting position in his lap.

  "My hair," she said, running her fingers through the tangled, crackling mess. "You scorched my hair."

  North. Yes, this direction was north.

  With a touch of spurs, they started forward again.

  Complete and utter darkness. Velar let Akeil have more rein, hoping his mount could find the best path.

  "This is unacceptable," Shilandra said.

  Velar blinked. "What?"

  "I will not sit in your lap like some courtly wench out of a bard's tale. It's demeaning."

  "Fine," Velar sighed and put hands to her hips and shoulders to twist her around to her original position. Shilandra squealed and resisted.

  "Never mind," she stammered. "I believe this is tolerable."

  Velar nodded. "Mind your head."

  "What?"

  "Mind your head," Velar repeated and leaned himself and Shilandra forward as they passed beneath a low-slung branch.

  "Is there no road in this miserable province?" Shilandra breathed irritably. "I assume we are in Morcre."

  "Yes, we are in Morcre," Velar stated. "And the only road in was occupied by revenants."

  He could only see the outline of her features in the absence of light, but he felt her stiffen.

  "Revenants?"

  "Yes, and I somehow doubt they were the same two that threatened to tear you apart."

  He felt her shudder.

  "I didn't know they were revenants until . . . " She fell against him, her head beneath his chin. "I had fallen asleep while I studied . . . they just came and . . . "

  Velar frowned. "Your eye?"

  A hand lifted to her face.

  "I . . . I fell down the stairs trying to run," she whispered. "Oh, blessed gifts of Shiar- " She trembled.

  "Perhaps you should sleep," Velar suggested.

  "Sleep!" Shilandra almost laughed. "I couldn't sleep."

 
Velar shook his head. Teacher had never explained the methods he used to impose sleep on another person although he had used the technique on Velar regularly. It had something to do with the touching of minds, that much he knew. But that was all he knew. He should have asked when he had the chance. Shilandra needed to sleep. It would ease the shock and confusion of the night's events.

  "You could at least try," he said.

  "No," she sniffed. "I think I'll just cry a bit. If you don't mind."

  Velar shook his head. "No, actually, I wouldn't."

  "I was scared. I couldn't think."

  Shilandra sobbed, her shoulders heaving against his chest.

  "I was so scared," she whimpered.

  Velar slipped an arm around and held her.

  "Gods be damned, I hate this," she spat.

  Velar felt heat rush to his face. "Hate what?"

  Shilandra lifted her arm, encircled his neck and pulled him closer.

  "Crying," she whispered and, once again, began sobbing against his chest.

  * * *

  Dawn came seeping through the forest. Morning mists swept about Akeil's hooves as Velar considered finding a suitable place to camp. His mount needed rest. Velar needed rest. His back ached and his legs were numb from Shilandra's gentle weight. Sleep had finally found her, and she lay snoring lightly with her head nestled in the crook of Velar's shoulder and arm.

  At a clearing that boasted a fertile patch of grasses for Akeil's appetite, Velar shifted his arm to wake her.

  "What is it?" she murmured.

  "We'll camp here," Velar said and eased her to the ground.

  "What of the revenants?"

  Velar shook his head as he dismounted. "Nothing could find us in this thicket. Besides, they won't follow."

  Shilandra frowned, then winced as the expression pulled open the cut at her cheek. "How can you know?"

  "I doubt Gelai would waste the effort and time required for pursuit." Tingling pain danced through his legs as he worked loose Akeil's tack. "She'll wait."

  With a cloth from his pack, Velar quickly rubbed down his mount's back and legs then released him to wander among the grasses. Akeil gave a rumbling grunt of satisfaction as his nose disappeared into the thick turf.