Ossendar: Book Two of the Resoration Series (20 page)

Wyndon smiled, “Simple, restore the Dragon Order. You have already started down that path, now you must finish.”

Flare felt the pressure settle on his shoulders. He shook his head as he spoke, “I don't know if I can do that. And I'm not really sure that I want to. According to the Kelcer prophecy, whoever restores the Dragon order will do some horrible things.”

“Do your best and that is all you can do. If you fail, but you've done your best, that's all anyone can ask of you.” Wyndon said, he then took a step toward Flare. “I have fulfilled my punishment, now please release me. Release me to pass on beyond and see what waits for me.”

“What?!” Flare exclaimed, he had thought that Wyndon might be his guide through the coming ordeal. “Aren't you supposed to guide me through this?”

Wyndon shook his head, “No. I have done what I was supposed to do. I answered your questions and I have told you the truth about the events of the past. Now please release me.”

A thought occurred to Flare, “One more thing, are you the one who has been guiding me these past several months? Are you the one who has been speaking to me in my head?”

Wyndon cocked his head to one side. “No, I have not spoken to you before this evening.” He paused briefly, “If you are hearing another voice, then perhaps I am not the only guide that has been sent to direct you. Tread with caution, not everything that you hear may be in your best interest.”

Flare sighed and nodded his head, “All right. I release you.” And then almost as an afterthought, he quietly added, “And I forgive you, as well.”

A look of peace settled on the face of Wyndon, and then Flare noticed that he was slowly starting to fade. Flare stepped back, but continued to watch for several moments as Wyndon slowly disappeared. After a brief look at the blood stained desk, he turned and headed back out of the room.

Chapter 7

Duke Angaria walked towards the golden square. The golden square was a large area in Telur that was owned by the church. It had belonged to the church for so long, that no one outside of the church even remembered how it had come to be. It was called the golden square because of the tremendous number of golden displays, statues, and decorations that adorned the buildings of the church property, both inside and out.

The original church that sat on the square was still there, but it looked puny next to the newer more massive church building that had been built beside it.

The original church had been built small, though sturdy, but was used more to remind people of the humble beginnings of the church. It was built out of rough stone, and the roof was covered with wooden shingles. The windows were of clear glass, and it was easy to see through to the simple pews and altar that remained in the church.

The newer church building had been built after the rise of the church, and it reflected the power and authority of the church in the grandness of its design. It was simply huge. The building resembled a fort more than it did a place of worship; the walls were smooth and rose from the ground several stories before there was a window that was large enough for a person to squeeze through, although smaller windows were on the first several stories. The windows were exquisitely made of colored glass, and they depicted images from the history of the church. There were several entrances into the building, and they simply couldn't be missed. Each entrance was a wide heavy double door entrance, resting under a massive arch of stone. In the darkness, Angaria couldn't even see the roof, but he knew that it was made of tiles that had been baked and then painted. The colors of the roof drew the gazes of travelers as soon as they came within sight of the building.

Angaria pulled his cloak tighter around his neck, as he walked against the cold wind. It was late fall, but it felt like winter had finally arrived, and he shook his head at how sudden the weather had changed. Just several days ago, it had been cool, but certainly not cold, and now the first snow of the season was already falling, which was unusual this early. He took it as a sign that the church, and more importantly the sect, was following the right path. His plan was daring, but not foolhardy. There were several possible outcomes, and they would all be good for the church. Angaria frowned at the thought of presenting his plan, there were many who would oppose it, even before he finished explaining it. That was one reason he had requested a private audience with the high priest, one person should be easier to convince.

The snow crunched under his feet, and for the first time tonight, Angaria allowed himself to smile. 'Yes, the plan just might work after all,' he thought.

He walked along the metal fence that ran the entire perimeter of the square. No one ever tried to break into the church grounds; instead they always tried to get out. The church kept its prisoners in cells under the main building; it was there that prisoners were 'questioned'. Officially, the church condemned torture, but in private, the church stopped at nothing to get information.

“Stop in the name of the church!” A rough voice called to Angaria as he approached the gates. “Identify yourself.” The gates were always guarded, and the gates were the only way in or out of the golden square. A guardhouse stood on either side of the gates, and torches hung on the sides of the guardhouses and gave off a meager light.

Angaria loosened his hold on his cloak, and tilted his head up so that the guards could see his face. “I'm Duke Angaria, and I'm here to see the high priest.” He said in a calm but forceful voice. If the power of his position didn't scare them, then surely the fact that he was here to see the high priest would.

A guard carried a torch over and held it up to better see Angaria's face. “My apologies Duke. We could not see you in the darkness.”

Angaria smiled, “That's fine. Can you please escort me to the high priest?”
“At once, sir. Please follow me.”

Dalin Olliston sat in a high-backed chair that was just to the right of a roaring fire. He was heavily bundled up in a thick blanket that was wrapped around him, and then tucked in.

The fireplace was in the middle of a wall with a window on either side of it. There was a door beside both windows. The doors exited on either end of a balcony that ran the entire length of the room. The doors were locked and would remain so until the springtime. Heavy curtains covered the windows and the glass panels on the two exterior doors. Two of the remaining three walls were covered with bookshelves, which were overflowing with books and papers. The fourth wall, which is where the door to the hallway was, had several paintings of previous high priests on it.

The floor was smooth marble tile, but there were several large and thick rugs placed around the room. At his age, Dalin had a hard time staying warm in the winter and cool in the summer. The rugs were put down in the winter to help keep him warm. In the summer, the rugs were removed, and he would walk on the marble in his bare feet.

The room itself was rather unremarkable in its shape and design. It was square with the walls made of a dark colored wooden paneling.

As Angaria entered the room, a large desk covered with paperwork sat to his right, Dalin was directly in front of him sitting in his chair. Another chair was to the left of the fireplace, and was undoubtedly intended for Angaria. The chair was nice as it was padded, but it did not compare to the chair that Dalin was sitting in. Angaria suppressed a smile; it was hard to imagine the leader of the church still resorted to such petty displays of who was in charge. To his left, were several more chairs and a couch, which were used to entertain small groups of people.

Angaria entered and stood on the rug waiting to be acknowledged. He heard the door close quietly behind him, undoubtedly, one of the servants. He stood there for several moments, while Dalin continued to stare into the fire. Angaria frowned, this was another way that Dalin was showing him who was in charge, and that the high priest was not pleased with him.

Dalin finally turned his face from the fire and looked at Angaria. He motioned for him to have a seat in the chair opposite his.

Angaria took the offered seat and for the first time since entering the room, he got a good look at the high priest's face. He was shocked at how aged and decrepit he was looking. It had only been several weeks since their last meeting, but in those weeks, the priest had aged tremendously. 'It must be the stress of fighting the prophecy.' Angaria realized with a start.

“I'm disappointed with you, Angaria.” Dalin said. It seemed he was saying that every time that he saw Angaria.

Angaria bowed his head in a show of deference to the priest. “My apologies, sir. Things have not gone as we had wished. I had hoped to have some incriminating information on him by now, but either he is too smart or too lucky. I'm sure he is doing things that we could use to get him into trouble, but my spies cannot find any proof.”

Dalin nodded, “So what are you going to do? Do you realize a sizable number of the nobles have started liking him. Ever since he beat that fool Darion in that competition, it seems they have started respecting him. He must be stopped, Angaria.”

Angaria felt the anger starting to well up within him. He knew the situation as good as if not better than Dalin, he didn't need the old man telling him that it was getting worse. He quickly buried those feelings of anger, “Yes sir, I am aware of that. I have come up with a bold plan and I was hoping you would listen to it and either give me permission or not.”

Dalin sat quietly studying Angaria. The Duke was a trusted aide to the priest and rarely asked for permission on implementing a plan. Dalin trusted him enough that Angaria could start the process of implementing a plan even before explaining it to him. It made him a little nervous that the Duke felt the need to explain this plan first, and besides if he knew about the plan ahead of time then it would make it more difficult to deny it after the fact.

Dalin sat there for several moments studying Angaria, before sighing and saying, “Go ahead.....”

Flare spent several days in his room following his conversation with Wyndon. It felt like the weight of the world was sitting on his shoulders and depression was weighing him down. He spent the days in his bed, not eating, but instead, dwelling on the task ahead of him; dwelling on the fact that the fate of two kingdoms and the people of those kingdoms depended on him. Several times someone knocked on the door, but he just ignored them and they went away.

Finally, he managed to start ignoring the thoughts of the lives that depended on him. Dwelling on those thoughts added to his feelings of being overwhelmed, and besides what good would it do to worry? If he failed, then he would be the first to die.

His thoughts finally turned to how to accomplish the task at hand. His studies of sorcery and magic were proceeding well, but every member of the Dragon Order that he had ever heard of also knew wizardry. Wizardry had been outlawed and Flare didn't think any wizards still existed. If he didn't know wizardry, could he still restore the Dragon Order? And how would he ever get the chance to go after the sword that had belonged to his grandfather? And was there anything else he needed to do?

He considered first one plan then another, quickly discarding them when it seemed they would not work out. There had to be a way for him to go after the sword, but every plan that he came up with seemed doomed to failure. He was sure that the church was watching him closely, and if he suddenly left, they were sure to follow. A feeling of helplessness settled in on him, and he was still fighting that feeling, when a knock came at the door.

Flare responded to the knocking by rolling over and laying on his right side in the bed. Several quiet moments went by before the knocking started again, but this time the knocking was a hard banging. The knocking was quickly followed by Kara's voice, “Flare! Are you in there?

'If I don't answer, then maybe she will go away,' he thought hopefully. He didn't feel up to visiting with her, instead he wanted to resolve in his own mind how best to try to restore the order. Although, in all honesty, he did not want the pressure of the task.

Several more moments of silence followed Kara's second banging. Flare was just starting to think that Kara had left, when he heard the sound of a key turning in the lock of his door.

He sat up in bed, starting to get a little angry at being intruded on. Regardless of whether or not she was his teammate, he was still a prince and he deserved some respect.

The door opened and in rushed Kara. “Flare! Are you okay? No one has seen or heard from you in three days.” She said as she rushed over next to his bed and leaned down over him. “You look horrible! What's the matter?”

“I'm fine.” He tried to say, although it came out more like a croak than anything else. “Why are you entering into my room without permission?” He demanded, with just a touch of an angry tone.

A look of confusion was quickly followed by a hurt look. She put her hand on his shoulder and pushed him back into the bed. “Flare, you have not been seen in three days! You look like you have not left your bed in all that time. Have you eaten anything in three days?”

Flare allowed himself to be pushed back. “Really, Kara. I'm fine. I just have a lot on my mind right now, and I've been trying to determine what to do.”

Kara seemed slightly surprised by his words, but she tried not to show it. She sat down on the edge of the bed, “Flare, I was sent to you because the king wants to see you first thing in the morning and you are in no shape for that meeting.”