The Ranger (Book 1) (24 page)

A large stone building resembling the keep of a castle dominated one side of the square, standing taller than any other building in the city. Large glass windows lined the upper floors of the building, while the ground level had nothing more than a few arrow slits. The door was large, but plain.

Directly across the square stood the Cathedral of Sandora. It looked like a larger version of the sanctuary at the Abbey of the Golden Sword, but it was much less ornate, lacking the carvings on the walls. The door was also very plain, resembling the one in Muggire.

Lauren approached the door of the sanctuary and knocked with the large metal knocker. The booms echoed across the square.

As the echoes faded, the doors slowly creaked open revealing a priest bent with age holding a candle. He squinted, vainly trying to make out the two visitors through the dim light. Vincent could tell by his eyes that he was nearly blind.

“We are Rangers heading for the Draylor Caverns to the north,” Lauren said, noting the priest’s difficulty seeing. “Master Jerome Auna was to meet us here.”

“Ah yes,” the priest said, his voice much stronger that Vincent expected. “Master Auna did say that he was expecting some visitors this evening. Come in, come in.”

The inside of the sanctuary was much smaller than it appeared on the outside, but it was well lit and warm. The priest closed the door softly behind them.

“I am Cirous, high priest of Senno,” the old man smiled warmly. “Master Auna was summoned by Lord Frasier this evening. He will return in the morning. However, you are welcome to stay the night here if you wish.”

“Yes, thank you,” Lauren replied, holding back a yawn. Cirous clapped his hands twice and a small, wiry priest rushed from a door at the back of the sanctuary.

“Patrick shall show you to your room,” Cirous said. Patrick didn’t seem too happy about this, but motioned for them to follow him.

He led them through the small door near the altar at the front of the sanctuary, to a narrow flight of stairs that plunged deep beneath the sanctuary. The corridor at the bottom of the stairs was broad with high ceilings. Orbs like the ones in the Academy lit the passage.

Patrick led them a short distance before stopping in front of one of the many doors that lined the corridor. He looked around, seeming very nervous, before opening the door and ushering them in.

“I hope this will suffice,” he said, still sounding nervous. The room was small, but had two beds, a small night table, and a wardrobe.

“This will be fine,” Lauren answered absently.

“Excellent,” Patrick stammered. “I shall have food brought. You must be hungry.”

“We don’t want to be any trouble,” Lauren said, not really paying any attention to him.

“It’s no trouble,” he said quickly as he backed out of the door. “If you need anything, just let me know.” He closed the door as he left.

“Well he was nice,” Vincent said as he sat on one of the beds, dropping his pack on the floor.

“Too nice,” Lauren sighed. “He wants something. And we’re probably not going to like it.”

There was a knock on the door and Patrick returned, carrying a plate of hot bread and cheese, as well as a few apples. He set it on the night table without a word and left as quickly as he had come. Lauren locked the door after him before removing her mask.

“There,” she said. “No more interruptions.”

They quickly disarmed and devoured the bread and cheese. The apples were a little sour, but Vincent didn’t care, he was so hungry that he would have eaten them even if they had been rotten.

He lay on his bed. The mattress was made of feathers, as was his pillow. He had never felt anything so soft.

“Why do you think they want something?” Vincent asked curiously, sitting up.

“The food, the room,” Lauren explained, she too was laying down now, “they’re all too nice. Yes, a sanctuary will always give us a place to stay for the night, but it’s usually a palette on the floor in some remote corner. This,” she said, indicating the room, “is usually reserved for visiting nobles. They want something, mark my words.”

Vincent lay back down.

“Anyway,” Lauren continued, “we’d best get some rest. It’ll be another long day tomorrow.” She tossed a cloth over the orb between the beds, plunging the room into darkness.

Despite how tired Vincent was, sleep didn’t come easily. He lay there as the hours dragged by. The events and dreams of the last few months whirled through his head. There were still a lot of questions. How had he ended up here, the Chosen of Sandora, training to be a Pallàdrim to resurrect a kingdom for a princess he didn’t even know; a princess that Silva was hiding?

He closed his eyes, his thoughts still spinning.

As he opened them, a faint blue light filled the chamber. It must be the dream again, but he was still in bed, so it couldn’t be the dream. So where was the light coming from?

He propped himself up to look at the room. There, on the other bed, was a stone on a string hanging from around Lauren’s neck.

In a flash, he was standing in the chamber under the floor in his house, looking at the crying girl and the strange stone around her neck. Then he was back in the room, looking at the same stone.

More pieces came together.  Lauren was one of the girls from his dream. She had stayed with Master Silva when Vincent had been taken to the orphanage. Silva had just become The Guardian. Could that mean that Lauren was the Princess of Pallà? But if so, then why was Master Silva allowing her to be a Ranger when it was so dangerous?

Vincent lay back down. This had simply created more questions. He closed his eyes once again. Sleep finally came.

***                            ***                            ***

A loud knock woke Vincent from his sleep. He hesitantly opened his eyes. The knocking sounded again, louder this time.

“Who is it?” Lauren called, sounding rather irritated at being woken.

“Jerome Auna,” the familiar voice called from behind the door. “Open up.”

Lauren jumped from her bed, grabbing the cloth from the orb as she went. She opened the door just enough to let Auna slip through before closing it again. He wasn’t wearing his usual red robes today, but a Ranger’s tunic. Vincent almost didn’t recognize him.

“Why so early?” Lauren asked, looking at the hourglass on the night table, which indicated that there were still four hours until dawn.

“We need to leave,” Auna answered hastily, “now. I need to get to Spacco as soon as possible.”

“What’s happened?” Vincent inquired, getting out of bed.

“I’ve received a troubling report that the Eresians are trying to recruit Knights of the Order to the Imperial Army,” he explained. “They’ve also had a large number of operatives snooping around here in Senno. I have a feeling that the Magi are at the bottom of this. Be ready to leave in thirty minutes and meet me upstairs, in the sanctuary.” Without another word he opened the door and slid back out into the corridor.

Lauren and Vincent armed themselves in silent haste. Vincent’s arms were still heavy with sleep as he tied on his mask. They silently slipped into the deserted corridor, and made their way back to the sanctuary. Auna was already there.

“Are you both ready to go?”

They nodded.

“Good. Let’s move out.”

They moved silently through the sanctuary toward the door. Auna slid the giant bolt back to unlock the door. It screeched as it went, echoing through the silence. Auna started to push the door open, but stopped as a voice called from behind them.

“Leaving so early?” Patrick asked. He seemed almost desperate. “Wouldn’t you rather wait till dawn? We could make you a good breakfast and send you off with a full stomach.”

“No,” Auna replied firmly. “We need to leave now.”

“Oh,” the priest said, sounding distressed, “that’s unfortunate.”

“Why?” Auna asked impatiently. “Is something the matter?”

“Well,” Patrick started hesitantly, “there is a group of monks from Spacco staying with us at the moment, and they had planned on returning this morning. In fact their escort arrived yesterday morning. The only thing is: they only sent four Knights.”

“I told you he wanted something,” Lauren whispered in Vincent’s ear.

“So I was hoping that the Rangers might be able to escort them… but if you’re in such a hurry…” Patrick trailed off.

“This is highly unusual,” Auna sighed. “It is customary for the High Priest to make such requests of the Rangers. Where is Cirous?”

“The High Priest is an old man and could not rise so early as to make the request himself. He asked me to come on his behalf,” Patrick stammered quickly.

“How many monks are there?” Auna asked, becoming increasingly impatient.

“Twelve.”

Auna sighed deeply as he thought, rubbing his temples.

“Very well,” he replied at length. “If they can be ready in twenty minutes then we will escort them. But we leave in twenty minutes, with or without them.”

“Thank you so much,” the priest said, obviously relieved as he hurried off to rouse the monks.

“There is something strange going on here,” Auna said, sounding frustrated. “High Priest Cirous may look old, but he still has as much energy as he ever had. If this was such a concern to him, he would have come himself. Also, that priest was wearing a golden ring. It is not customary for those in clerical positions to wear jewelry.”

Vincent hadn’t even noticed that detail. As he thought back, he had been wearing it the night before as well.

“To make matters worse,” Auna continued, “there are now twelve people we have to protect on our journey, and it will probably take us an extra day as we won’t be able to travel as quickly with these monks in tow. That will make things more difficult. Even with two Rangers, a large group is a prime target for thieves.”

“Then why did you accept?” Vincent asked, slightly annoyed.

“It is law among the Rangers,” Lauren explained. “We cannot refuse a request that comes from a High Priest. And as suspicious as it sounds, he claims that this request came from Cirous.”

“Vincent,” Auna cut in, “you need to be especially careful on this mission. There are people who knew you at the abbey living in Spacco. Remember, the Eresians thinks you are dead. It absolutely must stay that way.”

The Monks quickly assembled with their escort, all of whom looked disgruntled at being woken so early. However, they all seemed ready to travel. The monks all wore brown robes, tied about the waist with a length of shabby rope. The escort, four knights, wore tunics of pale red, the color of the Abbey of Spacco.

“Alright,” Auna addressed the group, “we are on a tight schedule and need to travel as fast as possible. We will probably be moving a lot faster than you as accustomed to, but we will try to ensure that you can all keep up. I need you all to line up in double file, with the knights in pairs on either side. One Ranger will lead while the other brings up the rear.”

“Why do we need these Rangers anyway?” one of the Knights muttered loudly. “We’re more than fine on our own.”

Vincent turned in shock at hearing the familiar voice. Thomas stood behind the group of monks. His red hair was matted from his pillow, and he obviously hadn’t shaved in a few days. He glared at Vincent and Lauren, looking even more disgruntled than the others.

“Is there a problem, Sir Thomas?” Auna asked sharply. “These Rangers have been gracious enough to agree to escort you. You should be grateful.”

“We don’t need help from a group that can’t even protect one of their own, or have you already forgotten Vincent. I thought you two were friends,” Thomas spat bitterly. Vincent wanted to tear off his mask, show his friend that he was still alive, but Lauren held him back. It pained Vincent, not being able to say anything, but he held his peace.

“You cannot even imagine the dangers faced by Rangers, Sir Thomas,” Auna growled as he approached Thomas. “I have lost more friends in the Rangers than you know; yet I still trust them, as should you.”

“Yes Master Auna,” Thomas lowered his gaze in submission, but Vincent could tell that he was still upset.

“You must forgive Sir Thomas,” one of the other Knights chimed in. “He is still young, and inexperienced. He will learn in time.”

This comment did little to improve Thomas’s mood. He clenched his fist while biting his lip, but he did not respond.

“I trust we will have no further problems,” Auna said, still staring at Thomas.

“No, sir,” Thomas muttered.

“Very good. Let’s move out.”

Auna led the group through the doors of the sanctuary and out into the square. It was still dark and the streets were empty. They made their way back down the main street to the city gate, which stood open. The lights were out in the little gatekeeper’s hut. Auna paused to shake his head with a sigh as he looked at the open gates before continuing.

They set out on the main road. Lauren led the group while Vincent followed. The knights walked beside the group of monks. Thomas and his partner were lagging behind the group, not far from Vincent. They spoke in hushed whispers.

“The Imperial Army says they’ll make us officers if we enlist with them,” Thomas was saying. “Think of the adventures we could have.”

“But what about the Order?” the other knight was saying. “I can’t just give this up. I’ve devoted my life to the service of Sandora.”

“You don’t have to give it up, James,” Thomas retorted. “They said they’ll give us special uniforms to mark us as servants of the Goddess. Besides,” he lowered his voice even more, “there’s been talk around town. People are saying that the abbeys are planning something; that they’re trying to rise against the Emperor.”

“Don’t tell me you believe that gossip,” James said, sounding nervous and looking over his shoulder to ensure they were not being overheard. Vincent acted like he hadn’t been listening. “You know as well as I that those lies are being spread by the Magi. They’re trying to destroy the abbeys.”

“But they say they’re trying to resurrect the Pallàdrim, in secret.” Vincent could hardly hear Thomas’ hurried whisper now. “What if it’s true? What if they really are planning something? Whose side would you take?”