The Record of the Saints Caliber (32 page)

Egret scowled. “With all due respect—”

“Hear us out, Lord Egret.” said Balin. “We have no intention of letting her have the Mard Grander, but we do need that skull if it is as powerful as Celacia claims. The Jinn have told us that with the skull we will be able to forge star-metal for our own needs, but they also believe it can be used to reforge the Mard Grander. Celacia knows the hammer is broken. She believes the skull can be used to reforge it. After all, it was the breath of the Dragon King Felvurn who melted the armors of the Avatars into the Elemental Chain. The Mard Grander was created from the weapons of those same Avatars, so we do have reason to believe that it is possible.”

Balin looked to the rest of the council and gestured for them to all stand. They all looked upon Egret and Balin said, “Lord Egret, we cannot allow Celacia to obtain the Mard Grander after it is reforged. On behalf of King Garidrir and this Council, we task you, Lord Egret, with protecting the Mard Grander from her at all costs.”

“We shall string her along as long as we can,” said Councilman Gefjon. “If we can use the skull to reforge star-metal and the Mard Grander, we will have weapons that can be used against her.”

“We cannot let her bring back the Black Dragon,” said Balin, looking at Egret.

Egret thought for a moment. “You plan to use the skull to reforge the Mard Grander and then wield it against Celacia?”

Balin looked at Egret. “You know as well as this Council that our weapons are useless against Celacia. Our swords would turn to dust before they even scratched her skin. But her powers have no sway over star-metal. If we could armor you and the Dark Star Knights in Star-Armor and arm you with weapons of star-metal, we could destroy her and all her evil ambitions.”

Gefjon spoke now, looking at Egret. “We also believe that the Mard Grander, once reforged, could be wielded against her. However, this Council and King Garidrir think it prudent to let the hammer remain broken until Celacia can be dealt with. We cannot risk the hammer falling to her.”

“Lord Egret,” said Balin, gesturing to the glass ceiling above. “Beneath the Duroton sky will you swear to protect the Mard Grander and slay Celacia?”

Egret nodded. “By the Lands of Duroton, I shall not fail.”

“Then it is settled. As soon as we can have weapons and armor of star-metal crafted that can be worn by you and your men, you shall wield them against Celacia,” said Balin. “In the meantime, you must not let the Mard Grander fall to her hands. No one must know of this. Not Brandrir or Dagrir or any of the Knights of the Dark Stars. Only the King, the Jinn and we in this room know of this plot.”

The Councilmen all bowed slightly to Egret. “As always, Lord Egret, your loyalty to Duroton is unmatched.” said Balin. “We thank you for your service.”

Egret bowed his head slightly.

“You are dismissed,” said Balin. “Please return to see King Garidrir. I believe he requires your services.”

Egret turned and left the room. Once the door was closed, Balin took his seat with the rest of the council. “That solves one of our issues,” said Balin. He sighed and tapped his fingers on the table.

“If the hammer can indeed be used to awaken Aeoria, Egret will want to figure out how the hammer can be used to do that, and so will the Saints.” said Parvailes, jumping right into the discussion that Balin had eluded to. “I think we can all agree on that. He admitted as much when he told us why he took that Saint Isley for himself.”

Hymnar nodded. “We all heard him. He said it himself he has been getting to know Celacia better than anyone. He’s already trying to figure out from her how the hammer can be used to awaken the Goddess, I’m sure of it.”

“Indeed,” said Gefjon. “But he won’t be awakening her to kill her.”

“We should let Celacia do the deed,” said Aldur. “If she kills the Goddess, so be it. That’s what we want, isn’t it?”

“But what if she fails?” croaked Parvailes. “Are you willing to risk everything this Council has fought for over the years on it? Worse, what if she succeeds in bringing back Darkendrog? It’s best we never let her take the hammer in the first place.”

“I concur with Rankin,” said Gefjon. “If the Goddess is sleeping, let her sleep. What difference is it if she’s dead or sleeping. Either way she’s of no concern.”

“Hear, hear!” said much of the Council in unison.

Balin looked up at the Council. “The prudent thing to do is ensure Celacia never obtains the Mard Grander. Once we get the skull, we have the Jinn experiment in reforging star-metal into weapons and armor that our people can use. Without it, we have no means to even touch Celacia. Once she’s gone, we have Egret return the hammer to the King. If Egret persists in finding and awakening the Goddess, we have Tarquin to fall back on. We have him silence Egret permanently if it comes to that.”

“And what if Brandrir takes the throne tomorrow?” asked Parvailes. “We cannot yet be certain the crown will go to Dagrir.”

Balin sighed and tapped his fingers on the table. He clucked his tongue and then looked at the Council. “That is going to be a thorn in our side. But if Brandrir takes the throne we’ll have bigger worries in our immediate future. All we can do now is make sure Celacia does not get that hammer. If we have to, we send Egret away with it and tell Celacia he stole it. That will buy us some time until we can obtain star-metal for our soldiers.”

“Agreed,” said Gefjon. “No use locking ourselves into anything until we know who takes the crown tomorrow. With any luck Brandrir is already half way back to the Grimwatch.”

“Hear, hear!”

Balin sighed loudly. “What’s left on the agenda?”

“We have the matter of the reparations Brandrir ordered us to pay the Icelanders,” said Parvailes as he looked over a parchment. “And we have the issue of the gasline in Snowbearing. We need another ten-thousand phoenix to finish the repairs. Lord Angmir met with Jord here and the King last night about it. I do believe he rode all the way here more to voice his complaints than for the Rising of the Phoenix.”

“Indeed,” said Jord. “As Councilman of Collections and Taxes I’ve met with more nobles than I can count the last few days. Snowbearing is not the only city that needs things. Lord Misendrar from Grayfrost has been asking for more knights for over a year. We just can’t afford to send anymore Northern Guardsmen away. He says he can live without a Dark Star Knight to head his army but he needs more than just villagers as soldiers.”

“Money is a real concern right now,” said Rankin.

“It’s only going to get worse if we don’t start acting on some of these issues soon,” said Jord. “Lord Misendrar is refusing to pay another phoenix in taxes until we get him his knights.”

“You know,” said Balin, brightening up as his eyebrow raised. “I think we might be able to kill two birds with one stone. What say we have Lord Tarquin test out his new Saints? The Icelanders are swimming in money. Send the Saints over there on a ship. They can clean up the place and suddenly we have the phoenix for Snowbearing’s gaslines, Grayfrost’s knights, and plenty more to spare.”

There was some chuckles amongst the Councilmen. “That’s not a bad idea,” admitted Jord. “Any survivors will just say it was Saints.”

“Brandrir would never approve,” said Rankin Parvailes. “If he takes the throne tomorrow and finds out, it isn’t going to be my head on the chopping block.”

“Who says he has to find out?” said Balin, raising his brow. “If Brandrir takes the crown tomorrow, he’ll have far too much to deal with to think about the Icelanders. Besides, more likely, he’ll run back off to the Grimwatch like he said. He’s not one to make idle threats.”

“If we do this, word must never get out.” cautioned Parvailes. “Not to Dagrir, not to Lord Egret, and I’d hesitate to even tell King Garidrir.”

“It would have to be complete eradication,” said Gefjon. “No survivors. No women. No children.”

“Isn’t that what Saints do?” said Balin. “Isn’t that what the southern kingdoms use them for? Quell dissent? Strike fear?”

“But women and children?” pressed Aldur. “Will Saints do such a thing?”

Balin cracked a little smile. “Let me tell you of the kingdom of Valdasia and King Verami and his Queen, Loretta. They’re brother and sister, you know. Incestuous lovers. Apparently only his own sister could love such a sickly, crippled man.”

“Yes, we all know of the depravity of the southern kingdoms.” said Aldur, waving a dismissive hand. “Gatima of Jerusa starves his people while silos of grain rot. King Dhanzeg of Narbereth mutilates any who might be more beautiful than his own daughters. It all makes for lurid campfire tales, but what’s that have to do with the Icelanders?”

“His sister Loretta is said to be barren,” said Balin. “But she desperately wants a child. They say she is called the Dire Mother and all the women of Valdasia fear her. She sends her Saints out to take newborns from their mothers. She lets them suckle from her fallow breasts until they die. They say her nursery has endless rows of shelves, heavy with jars of bones from the babies she’s starved upon her breasts.”

“Your point?” said Aldur.

“It’s the Saints that do it all.” said Balin. “It’s not the Kings that carry out these things. It’s the Saints that bring those babies to their deaths in Valdasia. It’s the Saints that take the food from the people in Jerusa and let them starve. Killing women and children is what Saints do. Full eradication of the Icelanders is a job well suited for Lord Tarquin and his new Saints Alliance, is it not?”

There were some murmurs throughout the table.

“What do we do with Lord Tarquin and the Saints if they succeed?” asked Hymnar. “What if they speak?”

“There is an old saying in my hometown of Byfrust,” said Balin. “An old Durotonian saying that goes something like
Nupta pensum vel nupta argentum.
Betrothed to duty or betrothed to gold. It means he who is married to duty is not married to gold, and he who is married to gold is not married to his duty. You see, Brandrir and Egret, they are betrothed to duty. Enamored with honor and vows and everything that comes with their office. But men like Lord Tarquin and the Saints, they are betrothed to gold. Wealth and power. Men like Tarquin will toe any line you give them if you make it worth their while.”

Jord nodded his head vigorously. “Lord Tarquin is on board with this Council,” he reminded.

“Indeed he is, and very much so.” said Balin. “It’s why we recommended King Garidrir to appoint him over Egret. Let us not forget that Tarquin came to me in the first place. Once he got word that Duroton might be granting Exaltations he wanted to be first in line to be given to an Exalted if the opportunity presented itself. I told him that if the deal with Celacia worked out I’d do him one better. You should have seen his eyes light up when I told him I’d make him Captain of the Saints Alliance. Now he can repay us for the favor.”

There were some more murmurings.

“No survivors.” said Gefjon at last. “No witnesses. Complete eradication.”

“I’ll send for Lord Tarquin at once.” said Balin. “Let’s see how well these Saints perform.”

— 8 —

A CALL TO DUTY

“So, just like this, you’re leaving for the Grimwatch?” said Dagrir, but Brandrir was only half listening as he tightened the saddle around Stormwild’s frame. It was a large and powerful Icelandic Great-Hoof with the typical markings of its breed: stark-white with black stripes under the eyes and a pair around each ankle. One of the most powerful and courageous horses in all of the North, and indeed the world, the Great-Hoofs were a rare breed, and even rarer to be saddle-broken. But breaking Great-Hoofs was something of a hobby to Lord Tarquin who led the Stellarium Guard and the castle had a number of magnificent and rideable specimens. Stormwild had been a gift to Brandrir for his twentieth birthday, and the steed had served him well and faithfully for the last five years.

“Father wants you to stay.” persisted Dagrir. “
I
want you to stay. Please, brother, you’ve got to learn how to deal with the Council.”

Brandrir pushed himself past his brother and opened up one of the saddlebags to make sure he had packed enough rations and supplies to last. The Grimwatch was over three-hundred miles away and some of the country, especially near the Blue Wilds, could get treacherous.

“Brandrir,” said Dagrir. “I know you hate politics. Unfortunately, playing that game is part of being King.”