Death's Knight

by Jena Rey

  “I find it hard to believe anyone fears my brother.” Fressin watched as her magic worked on his hand. “Handy, that. Is that why you survived the Sisters?”

  “That’s one reason. This is another.” From behind him, Darian loosed his mace and placed it across Fressin’s shoulder, hilt-first, so the runes were easily visible. “Her magic enchanted my mace, and made it able to kill them. Despite the odds. Can you read these symbols as well as the others you’ve studied?”

  “Oh, you’re back are you?” Fressin snipped, his cheeks turning pink with the realization he may have been overheard. He tried to focus on the shaft in front of him. “To answer your question, I certainly can’t from this angle.”

  “Then grab it, and look at it at whatever angle you need.” There was amusement in Darian’s voice. “And good to hear you aren’t afraid of me and care so much. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

  “Humph.” Fressin snatched the mace as Darian released it, grunting at the weight. “You moron, you could have waited until I had a better grip on it!”

  “No. No, I think he released it at the right time.” Lauret crossed the room and pulled Fressin into a solid hug, still wearing her full armor. She ignored his grimace and grinned at Ephema. “Don’t let his sour mug fool you, Ephema. Fressin cares deeply. It just all comes out as ire.”

  Ephema nodded, stepping away as the family surrounded their own. It was good that they had each other, but it was a visible reminder that she would never have such a reunion with her own kin. She stood at Tabor’s side, murmuring softly. “He does not believe.”

  “It’s hard for people to believe after so long, Ephema.” Tabor placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, suppressing a chuckle at the scene before them. “For a hundred years there have been no Daughters, only the Sisters, and you saw what they are. After a while, hope for redemption has to face reality. Given what we learned in Tallet, you may meet older people here who knew your parents, but don’t assume everyone will accept you and who you are, no matter how true.”

  Fressin pulled away from his mother, his expression shifting between irritable and pleased. He lifted the mace, not holding it like the weapon it was, but as a curiosity. He held the shaft so close to his face his nose nearly touched it. “Hrm. It’s certainly enchanted, but not with Osephetin’s power. I’ve never seen something like this. It vibrates.” He glanced at Darian, stating with the finality of all younger siblings who had acquired something they wanted from a family member, “I’m keeping this.”

  “Wait, you are not.” The tone of Adaman’s voice caused everyone to stop and stare at the thin man, whose eyes were fixated on the mace in Fressin’s hands. With three wide strides, he stepped forward and grabbed the mace, though he was unable to wrest it free. “By the Holy Dark Father himself, release that mace at once! I must see it!”

  Fressin blinked at the sudden assault on what he had rightfully stolen. “No! Not until I’ve figured out the script. These are old runes, older maybe than the Fall. They should be in the library, or it’ll at least point me in the right direction. Now let go!”

  “Boy, you do not have the sight. You cannot see the bright power flowing out of this weapon. The sheer intensity. It shines in your hand like a beacon!” Adaman tugged at the mace ineffectually. Fressin was stronger than he looked. “Release it at once!”

  “Let me play tie breaker here.” Lauret reached between them and calmly took the weapon from her son, who reluctantly relinquished it. No one in their right mind would try to wrest a weapon from the High Proctor. “It is Darian’s mace, so it’s proper for him to retain it. If he offers to allow either of you to study it, you will return it to him when asked, and you will thank him. Am I clear?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Fressin nodded in well-practiced habit.

  “Of course, High Proctor.” Adaman licked his lips and bowed low, though his gaze followed the mace as it returned to Darian’s keeping. “I would never dare to question otherwise.”

  “Good.”

  Ephema shook her head as she watched the discussion. Sometimes she truly did not understand people. She opened her mouth to say something and then stopped when she noticed another door open near the back of the room. An old man who seemed so frail it was a wonder he could stand on his own waited in the entry. He touched a finger to his lips and gestured for her to come to him.

  She hesitated, then saw that Tabor, too, had noticed the newcomer. The large Knight nodded and gave her a tiny push, stepping between her and the others and effectively blocking her from their sight. She didn’t entirely understand, but decided it wouldn’t hurt to see what the old man wanted, especially since Tabor knew who he was and seemed to trust him.

  When she got to the door the man gestured her through into an adjoining room. He smiled once the door was fully closed and pulled her into an unexpected embrace. “Oh, my dear child, it is so good to see you again. It has been many, many years since I last saw you. You’ve grown into a beautiful young woman.” He broke the contact and looked at her face for a long moment. “You’ve got Elaina’s eyes.”

  Ephema wasn’t certain what to make of the greeting, stiffening at first, but the embrace felt familiar – similar to the last time she’d seen her parents and hugged them goodbye. When he spoke her mother’s name she sighed, looking down to steady herself before returning his clear-eyed gaze. “That’s what my father always said.” She tried to smile, but it was a small thing. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember you.”

  “I wouldn’t think you would. The last time we met, you were barely four years of age, if that, and we were in a small temple many days’ journey from here.” The old man chuckled and led her to two comfortable chairs in a seating arrangement before a small fire. “Come. Sit.” As he sat, he sighed deeply. “I know you have many questions, let me start with the easy ones. My name is Calinin. My official title here at the High Temple is that of High Priest, but I do very little in that role anymore; I’m afraid I’m not too long from my walk down the Halls of the Faithful. It keeps me from being too much help to the people these days.” He smiled, wrinkles forming around his eyes. “Your father, Anceil, and my son were the best of friends. I watched the two of them grow up together.”

  “My…you…” Ephema stopped herself from speaking, tilting her head as she thought. “Bishop Lam. He is your son? I met him on the road. He told me about…” She cleared her throat. “He told me my parents weren’t returning.”

  “He is, yes.” Calinin motioned in the general direction of the road to Tallet. “At one point he and Anceil were going to be Knights together, but the position of a warrior never truly suited Lam. He had the ability, but was too gentle hearted. Once Anceil took up the mantle of a Knight, Lam followed my path and eventually took over the Temple in Tallet. I believe that it was Lam’s decision to stay in Tallet that eventually led to Anceil’s discovery of your mother. Our Lord works in mysterious ways, many which seem nothing more than coincidence at the time. But I find there are very few true coincidences in our lives.” His smile came again, easy and warm. “The rest of that story you likely know very well.”

  Ephema watched Calinin as he spoke, his voice playing with her memories, stirring up glimpses of a past meeting she barely remembered. She nodded, meeting his gaze. “Tabor…Knight Tabor said I should leave home and come to the Temple now. When we met, Bishop Lam told me how my parents died. I wanted to go home, but it feels like there is something I should do, but I don’t know.” She paused, rubbing her hands over her face. “Maybe I don’t want to know what it is. If I know what the world wants of me, I can’t go back. Can I?”

  Calinin didn’t answer immediately, but after a moment he asked softly. “My son may have told you how they died, but did he tell you what your parents were trying to do?”

  “A rite to make the world better.”

  “Yes, but that’s only the beginning. There lies the real story. I wish…” He sighed and his shoulders slumped. “So many lives were lost along the way, un
necessarily and wasteful in their loss. Hindsight is a horrible mistress, Ephema.”

  He glanced at the door as the sounds of voices got louder again. “Still, you’re here now. We cannot make the past right, but we can plan for a better future. And we will, once the din has calmed down. You are staying for a few days, yes?”

  “I don’t know, but I think so. My whole goal has just been to get this far, not what comes next. But, I think it would like to stay, at least for a while.”

  “You are traveling with young Darian and Knight Tabor. I am certain you will be here for some time. Journeyman Darian has something very important coming up, and I believe you should be there.”

  A soft knock came at the door. “Excuse me, High Priest. Journeyman Darian has brought the scroll and is ready to report to the council.”

  The High Priest sighed and nodded. “We’ll continue to our discussion at a later, calmer, date, my dear. There is more you should know, however, I must meet with the council. Your arrival is welcome, but comes at a time when we are under pressure as the attacks from the undead have grown more vicious, and there is much that must be done in a short period of time.”

  Her gaze was drawn to the door, as the robed messenger She nodded. “What do I call you? High Priest Calinin?”

  “In public that would be for the best, yes, or just High Priest as most here are want to do.” He gripped her shoulder once in reassurance, though his grip was so soft she almost couldn’t feel it through her shirt, then moved to open the door. “When we are in more comfortable surroundings, you may call me Calinin.”

  As Calinin opened the door for Ephema, he looked down and his thin eyebrows rose. “My dear, forgive me for asking, but where are your shoes?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Darian stood on the steps of the High Temple, enjoying the warmth of the day and the breeze coming off of the sea. Yesterday, he’d turned over the scroll and given his report to the High Priest and the council. He’d tried to do justice to his fallen comrades and to remember every detail he could. The questions the High Priest had asked had been searching, and Darian feared he’d been found wanting, but he’d done the best he could. Now the scroll was in the hands of the Priests and the scholars. Hopefully, it held the direction they all hoped it would.

  He’d hoped the High Priest would talk to him about his Knighthood, but nothing had been said. He was trying not to be upset. They’d only just arrived.

  “I’ll meet you both later. Tabor, Ianel, and I have a few things to discuss with the High Priest, and they’re above your rank, Journeyman.” Lauret’s voice broke through Darian’s musings, pulling him to the moment. She chuckled and tousled Darian’s hair. “You’re looking very shaggy, my son. Please see to that.”

  He shook away his worries and found a smile for her. “Is that an official order or a mother’s directive?”

  “Which is more likely to get it done without backtalk?”

  “Yes, Mother.” Darian bowed low. “By your leave, Knight Proctor.”

  “Granted.” Lauret glanced at Ephema. “Try your best to keep him in line, will you?

  Ephema raised her eyebrows, a small smile toying about her lips. “I will try. I have not had much luck in the past.” She glanced at Darian, but her gaze didn’t linger or meet his, and he wondered what she might be thinking. Not that he could ask while standing before his fellow Knights and his mother.

  “True.” Lauret dug a small parcel out of her belt pouch and placed it in Darian’s hands. “Give this to your sister. I assume you will be visiting the inn.”

  Darian nodded, accepting the package without question. The parcel, though small, was heavy. “Still collecting, is she?”

  “She is. I found her a nice one, though she’ll need to be careful with it, some of the interior is loose. Now, you two shoo, there is work to be done.”

  “Come on, Ephema. You heard the Knight Proctor.” Darian put the parcel into his pouch and led Ephema through the Temple doors. A few of the acolytes and journeymen waved as they passed, and soon enough they were outside of the main Temple grounds, where Darian visibly relaxed. “Ooof. Well, that went better than I expected.”

  Ephema pulled her attention from a flower which had pushed its way up between the cobblestones near the Temple steps. She blinked, falling into step with Darian. “What went better?”

  “The whole process of returning and your first visit to the temple. In addition, my brother was in a good mood. If you catch Fressin in a foul mood it will ruin your whole week.” Darian grinned, pulling his mace out and inspecting the runes as they walked. “He was quite interested in this though.”

  “That was a good mood?” The surprise in Ephema’s voice caught his attention. Her expression was filled with disbelief. She sighed. “I wish to like your family, but your brother is not nice, and your mother is very intimidating.” Her attention drifted to the mace, and she tugged absently on the end of her hair, twisting it around her fingers. “He didn’t believe your mace could work as I told him it did. I don’t think he will want to hear how it was made.”

  “You’d be surprised. Fressin likes taking a mystery apart, and that means he needs facts. A lot of them.” Darian put the mace away, looking up as someone called his name. He waved hello to the shopkeeper, an old family friend. “Afternoon, Jarston!”

  His attention returned to Ephema. “As I was saying, Fressin will eke every detail out of you if you let him. He’s a good person, just very rough around the edges. I don’t know the best way to put it, but he takes the entire world as it is as a personal affront to his sensibilities, and he’s made it his mission to bring down everything he sees as being wrong with it.” He shrugged. “He doesn’t like the idea of faith and thinks he can find the answer to every question sooner or later in a long-lost tome or scroll somewhere. That scroll I returned with will be his new passion project, I’m sure. I hope something on it will give us some concrete answers.”

  “Faith isn’t easy for everyone. I hope he can find direction, both for himself and for others.” She shuddered, as if a chill had run through her. “The High Temple feels like the mountains before a storm. Heavy with anticipation of something about to burst. No one is talking about it, but everyone feels it.”

  Darian blinked, shocked at the insight. “Yes. It has felt that way for months, since the Lich’s attacks in the field began to grow in frequency and violence. For all that he professes that his age makes him useless, the High Priest is very blessed. Our Lord Osephetin speaks to him through his dreams, and tells him things no one could possibly know. It is a rare skill for any of His followers to have and once High Priest Calinin has gone to walk the Halls, we will miss his guidance.”

  Darian stopped at a fruit stand to purchase a small yellow fruit that looked like it was covered with spikes. When Ephema indicated she didn’t want one, he tossed the stand owner a coin and continued. “I understand what you mean about the feeling, though I doubt I sensed it as astutely as you did. There is an underlying tone there. The priests are under far more stress than usual. I don’t remember it being like that before I left. I think things have happened we’re not yet being told about.”

  He took a bite of the fruit, pulling the spikey peel back with his teeth before biting into the fruit’s flesh. The sweet taste on his tongue reminded him long it’d been since he’d had any. He chewed absently. “I wonder if it has to do with those pirates that attacked us on the way here. Undead attacking is one thing, we’ve been dealing with that for years. Living attackers is another issue altogether. I don’t know if any of our cities is truly fortified against the living.”

  Ephema cast her gaze around the large buildings and raised both eyebrows. “Tall walls and heavy weaponry seem a good defense against either. They worked on the ship.” She paused as she dodged a cart coming down the road with a clatter of wheels on stone, then continued with a frown, “Though I was not much use there.”

  Darian shouted at the driver and steadied Ephema after the cart
passed. “You are not trained in warfare, Ephema. It was impressive you managed as much as you did. The walls were designed for undead. They attack and attack and attack, over and over, in straight waves. They don’t normally vary their attacks much, though we’ve seen a few lately that challenge that. For the most part, even a force of a thousand skeletons will simply throw themselves on a barrier time and again.

  “Human forces won’t do that. They will go around a wall, or over it, or under it, or burn it down. The walls are effective for slowing down an intelligent attacker, but I wouldn’t trust the walls to slow the foes we faced at sea much at all. They know what they are doing.”

  “Huh. Maybe so, but they were still beaten on the ship.”

  “Yes, but that was a small force, and even with your help, we lost many good men.”

  Ephema sighed and nodded, but she didn’t continue to press the issue. She gestured toward the package he carried, changing the subject. “What did your mother give you?”

  It took Darian an instant to realize what she was talking about, his thoughts still on the tall ship and the warriors they’d faced. He gave himself a little shake and chuckled. When she was curious Ephema didn’t hesitate to ask about anything. He removed the fist-sized package from his pouch and unwrapped it. After a few layers, a large, dull stone was revealed, and he held it up to the light. “Alloyna asked my mother and I to keep an eye out for stones like these in our travels. I haven’t seen any that weren’t in a shop, but my mother’s got the family luck and finds one nearly every trip.”

  Ephema’s head cocked to one side, looking vaguely birdlike in her curiosity. She glanced at him for permission, then touched the stone, running her fingers along the ragged seam that ran around it. Her little smile finally appeared, and she laughed. “I know what this is. Crystal stone!”