The Black Keep (The Chronicles of Llars) (40 page)

“Are you His?”

“I am His,” she said, breathlessly, head bowed.

“Then you are His,” he said with finality. “Return here tomorrow to meet with Mother Renee, the head of your order. You are now a Sister of the Order of the Divine Healer! Congratulations!”

“That’s it?” Carym and Genn asked simultaneously. The monk smiled and nodded and the three shared a quick laugh.

“When you meet Mother Renee, she will equip you and assign you to your new Hand Protector, should you need one.”

“What is a Hand Protector?” asked Carym. He wanted to do as Gennevera did. He wanted to proudly attest his allegiance to Zuhr, to join the Hand; but something held him back. What was it? Perhaps it was just caution. Maybe it would be too reckless to make such a declaration; didn’t he have more to learn about Zuhr before he declared his faith? Didn’t Zuhr have something to prove to Carym?

“They are a cadre of members of the Hand of Zuhr who train the Sisters in the martial ways of the Hand, and accompany Sisters on their missions abroad.” He looked at Carym meaningfully, but Carym said nothing. “What is your name?”

“Carym. Of Hyrum.”

“Great Zuhr! Can it be so?” he asked quietly. The monk put his hands on Carym’s shoulders and gazed into his eyes. “Can it be so?” he repeated.

“Aye, it is so. Why do you ask?”

“Because we have been waiting for you!” he said joyously. “The wonders of our God never cease! He has delivered to us the one who will bring about the Return of the First Paladin, and the downfall of the false gods!”

“Waiting for me? How is that possible?”

“Dear man, all things are possible in the name of Zuhr!” the monk was giddy with excitement. “This calls for a celebration. All of Myrnwell will celebrate this joyous news.”

“I beg your pardon, brother. I know not how I can be the man whom you are expecting,” he said quietly, not wanting to believe this news. Was this yet another ploy by Umber’s own forces to delay him? He just wanted to end this quest. “We’ve not the time. Our mission is urgent. We have an audience with Delfyd Rhi this evening to attend the matter of our travels north. I am sorry.”

“Hmm. I must insist that you meet the Bishop of Myrnwell before you depart. He will likely have more assistance to offer you than the Rhi; that one may have his own interests in you.”

“I don’t understand,” Carym insisted. “How could anyone know
me?
Know I was coming,
here?”

“Why it was Morgon Fyr, of Alfheym!” the man said in awe. “Did you not meet him?”

“Aye,” Carym replied quietly, closing his eyes. “Aye, meet him I did.”
And promptly forgot about him and that crusty old sorcerer!
There was far too much going on here. How could he have forgotten that pair? It didn’t make any sense. “We didn’t know ourselves that we would come here.”

“That one is a crafty one, and he has access to more information than any I daresay. He is one who has taken a keen interest in things concerning you,” he turned back to Gennevera. “Your decision to embrace the Great Lord Zuhr has become all the more apparent.”

“It has?” she asked, taken aback.

“Aye. You are going to have to keep
him
out of trouble!” the monk laughed heartily at his own attempt at levity. Carym smiled and shook the man’s hand, wondering how these things just keep falling into place. He was more than a little suspicious. It did seem, however, that Morgon failed to mention the existence of the Sigil Stones to the monk.

“Where is Morgon now? I would like to see him again.”

“Ah, back in Alfheym by now.” Brother LeNoir had steered the pair into a secluded area. “He spent some time with the brothers of my order, the Fyrbold, teaching us the basics of the Fire Sigil.”

“Fyrbold
?”
he whispered. “There are Fyrbold
here?”

“Oh, no true Fyrbold
;
just apprentices
.
Morgon said that the rest of the true Fyrbold
are among the Crimson Elves,” he said sadly. “They are hesitant to pass their knowledge to the rest of the world, save for Morgon. Watch!” he said, snapping his fingers. An orange flame sprang from nowhere and danced upon his index finger. Carym smiled blandly at the monk’s pleasure, his mind dwelling on some of the terrible things he had done with the Shadow Sigil.

“We have much to learn of the Tides, but our instruction has only just begun. If only you had the time, we could learn from one as powerful as you.”

Carym’s stomach lurched, “You do me a great kindness, brother. I am neither worthy nor capable of such an important task.”

If the monk suspected Carym was being modest, he politely avoided saying so as he led the pair out of the sanctuary. Suddenly Carym decided that he should in fact attest his faith in Zuhr. He grabbed Brother LeNoir’s shoulder and the man patiently turned to face him. He was about to speak, to say what he intended to say when a terrible thought entered his mind, “Sir Ederick!”

The monk looked him oddly, expecting an explanation. Carym turned to Gennevera, “He went to find the Zuharim Barracks! If they catch him...” his voice trailed off.

“Pardon my ignorance, sir. But is this Sir Ederick a member of the Sword of Zuhr? The old Zuharim Barracks have been off limits to all but members of the High Command for some time now.”

“Brother, what would happen to a Zuharim Knight found in the city?” the monk blanched visibly at the mention of the reviled name.

“He would be arrested! Zuharim are to be arrested on sight.”

“Yes, but what happens to them? Are they punished?” Carym asked fearfully.

“It is possible,” said the monk. “Who is this Sir Ederick you mentioned?”

Carym looked at the man for a time. Should he trust him? It appeared that Gennevera did, else she would not have declared her faith so. W
hy did she do that
now
, of all time
s? Then he shrugged slightly, it didn’t matter. She had done it. And if she could put her trust in this man, so could he.

“Ederick is our friend. A great warrior, who has fought bravely in the name of Zuhr his entire adult life. He is recently returned from Al Zocar, on a mission to gather reinforcements and return to the Holy City. However, he has felt the calling of Zuhr and believes that his destiny lies with us.”

“Hmm,” said the monk softly. “He is a Zuharim, then. Let’s go and see the Commander of the Myrnnish Constabulary Fist, they have responsibility for policing Myrnwell now. If he has been arrested, he will be brought to the brig for interrogation.” The monk led the pair out of the cathedral area and towards another part of the temple complex which appeared to be a three story barracks building made of marble and brick.

“The brig,” Carym repeated quietly. He knew what a brig could be like. They were the worst kind of prison, heavily guarded by military personnel; usually housing none but the worst offenders. He didn’t like his friend’s chances. “What sort of interrogation do you mean, Brother?”

Ederick left the inn and wandered among the streets of the city, his sword comfortably riding at his waist. From his traveling pack he removed a clean coat bearing the Shieldsmoore coat of arms and the emblem which designated his rank as a commander of the Zuharim, a golden sunburst in a triangle which was within a larger sunburst. The coat was wrinkled from lengthy disuse, but it was impressive and marked him clearly as a noble lord of the Zuharim.

As he made his way down the street he turned toward the market, hoping to find some fresh fruit. As he entered the market district he found a stand where a merchant sold dried meat strips. The merchant looked the knight up and down, eyed him warily, but sold him a small sack full of dried beef nonetheless. Ederick marked the man’s behavior but was cordial and bid the man a good day as he continued on his way through the market. He did not miss some of the angry looks from citizens, odd looks of resignation from merchants, and even a fearful mother shielding her child from the man.

The lack of respect due a Zuharim knight of his station disturbed him, but he was too humble to demand obeisance from these peasants. He could make no sense of things. The last time he had visited Cklathish lands, Zuharim were respected and revered.
Why the change?
Could the rumors be true? If so, perhaps it had not been wise of him to wear his coat and rank so openly. Then he dismissed that thought. He was a man of honor and had nothing to hide; he would certainly not hide his faith to Zuhr, whom he had worshipped so dearly his entire life.

The odd looks from citizens continued as the knight made his way through the market area. He walked with his head high and a smile on his face, determined not to show any signs of hostility towards his detractors, whom he suspected would need little encouragement to cause trouble. He graciously made his way towards that part of Obyn where he knew the Zuharim kept their barracks. It was in a keep that was on somewhat higher ground overlooking the port area. The keep was strategically located to offer a commanding view of the water as well as any approach routes from the main highway. Other keeps were similarly placed about the periphery of the large city, some belonging to Royal Guards while others were manned by the merchant companies sworn to defend the city where their businesses operated.

Once he was free of the congestion of the marketplace, the knight received little other notice; though he assiduously avoided the patrols of the Constabulary. He felt good, knowing that he was now able to complete part of his quest and deliver the message from his commanding general for desperately needed reserves. He paused a few moments at the bottom of the road which meandered its way up to the keep. He took a deep breath of the clean air and wondered why there were no guards posted here. A guardhouse sat unused, watching over the road.
No good can come of this
, the knight observed.

Looking about and seeing no signs of trouble, the knight began walking apurpose toward the keep. It was then that he heard hoof beats approaching from behind.

Ederick turned to see a band of horsemen, light, loping easily in his direction. Ederick sauntered to the side of the road to let them pass as was customary. When the five men casually surrounded Ederick he made no move to stop them and sought out the leader among the group.

The leader was the man staring down the length of a lance shaft at him and he said, “Who are you?”

“Sir Ederick Shieldsmoore. I seek entry to the barracks,” he said simply. The commander of the group was a lieutenant, a man of lesser rank than his own. The lieutenant nodded slightly, as though Ederick’s words confirmed some inward suspicions, though he made no further hostile move. Still, Ederick was displeased by this delay.

“What business have you there, Commander?” said the officer politely, nodding toward the suspiciously empty looking Zuharim barracks.

“I have a message which I must deliver to the commander of the Zuharim,” Ederick stood as a coiled spring ready to explode into action. He didn’t like the way this encounter was going. The lieutenant’s eyes and demeanor told the knight that the man had the confidence of one whose command has been tested and survived. One whose men will fight for him. One who was competent and thoughtful. A slight smile played about the lips of the leader as though he was reading the knight’s thoughts.

“You are recently returned from Al Zocar?”

“Aye.”

“I am afraid you will be unable to deliver your message to those whom you seek, Commander,” the man touched his helm with his left hand and nodded with respect towards Ederick. “Would you prefer to deliver your message to the bishop instead?”

Ederick knew what was happening now. He would have no choice but to go with the men, the leader of the group was too polite to suggest that the senior knight was being arrested; but arrested he was. Ederick grimaced thinking about his chances of escape.
Not good. A high wall at my back and mounted lancers at every side.

“Please, Commander Shieldsmoore. We are ordered to bring all Zuharim before the Bishop of Myrnwell.”

“You will not dishonor me by arresting me!”

“I assure you, sir, this merely a formality. We do not wish to fight you. But we must bring you to the Bishop,” the man’s voice was calm, but his eyes were pleading. He sensed something different in this Zuharim, but the younger man knew that good veteran knights would be sorted from the evil and released. “Only he can grant you clemency from the charges that are leveled on all Zuharim. If you choose to resist, we
will
fight you.”