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Authors: Tom Bielawski

Tags: #Fantasy, #Speculative Fiction by Tom Bielawski

Shadowblade (21 page)

BOOK: Shadowblade
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“So, this Leur Flammaeu is now the commander of the Hand of Zuhr?” asked Sir Ederick.

“He is the commander of the Knights of the Sword, Sir Ederick,” corrected the bishop. “The order which you are now part of. He is experienced in battle, although probably not as experienced as you, and has commanded the Knights of the Sword in minor skirmishes against expeditionary forces of the Steel Empire with great success.”

“I see,” said the knight.

Carym wondered how Ederick would handle the transition from his old order to the Hand. He hoped the man would be able to let the past go and not be bogged down by the destruction of the order to which he had given his adult life. Somehow, Carym knew Ederick was made of stronger stuff, however, and he felt confident his friend would be ok.

“And that was just a year ago,” finished Bishop Rohan. “The Nashian invasion was swift and surprising. Although Gun managed to secure passage out of Svaka in advance of the invasion, we have not heard from him since. His High Seat is empty, as are those who were seduced with promises of greatness by the clergy of Qra’z in the Steel Empire to the west.”

“I am the one Patron Ulrych spoke of, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” replied Bishop Rohan as Sir Ederick climbed out of the coach. “There can be no other.”

The Tower was a beautiful palace rather than one specific building. It was really a castle, a military fortification, and a small city unto itself.

The rest of the occupants followed the bishop out of the coach. They were now at the Tower of the North, the home of the new church, and its army, all devoted to Zuhr. They would be spending the long winter here but he felt the urgency of his quest calling to him as he left the road behind.

“What is to be my part then?” he asked, worried. “I feel like I’m in over my head.”

“And that may be precisely why you were chosen to do your part; you have no aspirations for exploiting the great powers that you wield. But, who can know the mind of Zuhr?” he said. “He chose you to find the Everpool. And that is what you will do.”

“So what’s in store for me now? Here in Myrnwell?”

“Now?” the bishop repeated. “To start with, we would like you to screen some of the recruits for their ability to use the Sigils.”

Carym grimaced at that. He wasn’t sure he should be using the Sigils himself, never mind screening others.

“I can accept that, I suppose. Although, I don’t feel I should be teaching anyone right now.” He paused for a moment, considering. “I have learned that the ancient Tome of Sigils is the key to unlocking the mysteries. Won’t we need that to teach others?”

“Indeed we will. And that shall be your first order of business when you do recover the Tome. For now, I suppose it’s a good thing your friend, Morgon, is here to help you screen recruits.”

“Morgon?” Carym’s mind raced, he hadn’t seen the man since Dockyard City. And even then, he could hardly call the man a friend. “The red-skinned elf?”

“Yes. The Crimson Elf from Alfheym. He has recently arrived. He is one of the Fyrbold, a Watcher. He is privy to many of the secrets of the Fyrbold and should be able to help you hone your skills while you are here.”

“Morgon,” he repeated. He did not know the man at all, and yet felt a sense of relief that came with the knowledge of his presence. “I met him briefly, in Dockyard City. He gave me something very precious, and very powerful.” The Sigilstones, six marble sized stones which related to the six disciplines of Sigil Magic. Each uniquely-colored stone a focus of power for its specific discipline. Each stone had the ability of channeling the power of the Tide over which it held sway, intensifying the magic that passed through it. And Carym constantly felt the pressures of each stone as it called to its own Tide of power.

“Indeed,” mused the bishop. “He told me something of the details of your acquaintance, though I suspect there is much yet that I do not know.”

“Tell me more of this Hand of Zuhr. What is it all about?” asked Carym, redirecting the course of the conversation.

“The Hand is an army of knights and men-at-arms dedicated to Zuhr’s holy ways.”

“Like the Zuharim used to be.”

“Like the Zuharim used to be,” agreed the bishop. “But more. While the Zuharim used to be good and holy men, their roles had been small and limited. And the knights were forced to recruit laymen to fill their ranks when wars were fought.

“The Hand is an army of professional, trained soldiers who are dedicated to Zuhr. We also strive to find the good Zuharim as they come back from the war in Al Zocar, the ones who have not been corrupted by the Shadow, and welcome them into our ranks.”

This elicited a growl from the newly made Sir Ederick, Knight of the Sword. Sir Ederick had recently come to the knowledge that the Zuharim, the order to which his entire life had been devoted, had been usurped by the Shadow and turned into an instrument of dark magic. Their order had been banned by the Rhi of Myrnwell over his claims of having been subjected to Zuharim curse, and it was only by the intervention of Bishop Rohan that the Zuharim were not all executed on sight. The bishop was able to convince the Rhi to allow him to conduct hearings to verify whether any accused Zuharim was a practitioner of the dark powers or not. Sir Ederick had been so accused by Delfyd Rhi and was exonerated by the bishop. But the Rhi’s thirst for vengeance against Zuharim would not be slaked by exonerated knights, and the bishop was confident that the Rhi would find a way to retaliate.

“By Zuhr’s teeth, I’ll make those dark ones pay,” hissed the knight. His forced change of allegiance had not been sitting well with him. Other than Carym’s own encounter with the dark knights, Sir Ederick had been operating under the assumption that there was nothing amiss with his order. Before meeting Carym and his companions on the road in Ckaymru, the knight had been fighting in a decade long war in far-off Al Zocar. His commanders sent the decorated knight on a mission to the various Zuharim barracks around the Cklathlands to seek reinforcements for the war. What he found was an order in disgrace and himself accused of practicing vile dark magic.

“Sir Ederick, I cannot say how profoundly disturbed I am by all of this. There is nothing that I can say to ease your grief, for you have truly lost something you hold dear. Yet Zuhr has made it clear that His children have strayed, and He has shown me that the Zuharim as an institution is
lost. Yet there is hope for those who are like you, those who have not been touched by the Shadow.

“It was Zuhr’s own decision to create the Hand, not to fight in Al Zocar and reinforce the Zuharim, but to fight the darkness here.
This
invasion of darkness by the forces of Umber is what matters. The hearts and minds of men are what matter, not a long lost and long desecrated piece of ground across the sea.”

“What is the purpose of the Sword of Zuhr?” asked the bard, quietly listening until now. “And what is Ulrych’s role, now?”

“The Sword of Zuhr is comprised of our most valuable knights and Ulyrch is the Patron of that Order. As we have learned, Ulrych is a Cjii. He is a mighty general and war leader and that is why he is the patron of the Sword of Zuhr.

“Knights of the Sword are the men who are the most battle tested, skilled, and the most devout of those in service to the Hand. They are the best and brightest and many of them possess an array of skills not found among the Knights and Men-At-Arms of the Hand. Some of the men have even found themselves blessed with special divine powers.”

“Divine powers?” asked Carym. “What sort of divine powers?”

“Ahh,” whispered the bishop with pride and emotion. “That is something you shall have to see for yourself, for it seems to come upon them in miraculous and unexpected ways.”

Carym nodded, and noticed Ederick’s intrigued expression. But the knight did not press the issue further, for the desire and thirst for power and favor were looked down upon by true knights. Sir Ederick was as true a knight as Carym had ever met and knew that the man would not seek power and favor for the glory of it; such high favor was bestowed only upon the worthy.

There was quiet for a while and the men drifted back into their private musings as they walked. Carym looked about the bustling town and wondered where his old friend Zach was and how he was faring. Not long after reaching Obyn, Carym and the companions received a cryptic message from Captain Trelwigger about “hunters” coming to get them. The terrified man would say little of the one who made him pass on the message, but Carym had his suspicions. Would Zach protect Carym or would he betray him further? Was there some hope that his friend would come back or did Zach only send that warning because there was some benefit for himself?

Carym suspected the latter was the truth of the matter, Zach would go where his own interests were best served.

The men walked the rest of the way in silence, followed distantly behind them by Gennevera and Hala and some women who were attending them. Carym wanted to fall back and go to Genn, but he did not.

His personal feelings had to be put on hold for the greater good. The fate of the world could rest on what decisions he made next and he could ill afford to be distracted by love.

For the sake of what lay ahead, and for the sake of them all, Carym decided to leave his heart behind him. For his new calling must now begin.

 

C H A P T E R

9

Prince Cannath.

 

Cannath decided that he could no longer wait for Hugh to return. He wondered with great ire what had happened to the man. It was very unlike him to simply disappear for days. Prince Cannath knew that his friend had been consorting with some very unsavory people on his behalf and considered the possibility that he had been captured or killed. He did feel sad about that. He was, after all, the reason that Hugh had engaged in the shady business of gathering intelligence in the first place.

But, Cannath concluded, if Hugh had been captured then he need not concern himself with the possibility that his rebellion might be compromised. The man had begun training with a monk from the Order of the Open Palm, and while Hugh was not a full-fledged monk, he had quickly learned much of their ways. These monks were very mysterious and seemed to have strange abilities that were mystical in nature. Thus the devotees of Zuhr had to practice their ways in secret due to the imperial decrees limiting the practice of other faiths and the ban on magic.

After so much time had passed with his men turning up no sign of Hugh, Prince Cannath had privately declared his friend dead. He had no time to mourn however, he had a rebellion to oversee. He waited anxiously for the arrival of Commander Coronus and his fleet, looking out over the bay from a balcony high atop the Tower of Thaynes. The Tower, built centuries ago, was the tallest spire in the building known as the Hall of Thaynes. It was a monument to the previous monarchs of Hybrand. Ordinarily, Cannath enjoyed spending time on the Tower, but today his mind was elsewhere. A cool breeze from the north calmed him and reassured him that his visitors should be arriving soon.

He watched with longing as a great black osprey leapt from its perch above the balcony and dove towards the water below at a dizzying speed. Cannath smiled as the great bird dove into the water like an arrow, leaving very little splash. Then, the great bird’s head surged out of the surface of the water, followed by its thrashing blue-black wings, shiny as the water ran off the feathers. Cannath envied the bird its freedom, and he envied the large and tasty trout the bird was going to enjoy.

BOOK: Shadowblade
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