Fires of Justice

Part 20:  Purpose – Instructions

Beginning | Previous | Next

Kale entered the temple of Davanek at a little after ten-thirty, and it was quite busy – but not so busy that any of the staff failed to salute him in some fashion.

No one did more than salute or say good morning, though.  Kale made it to the altar unmolested, and knelt there in the position of deep respect.

“Good morning again, Axe.”

Good morning again, Kale.  Pleasant meal?  And good company?

“Very much so, on both counts,” Kale said, speaking softly.  “And you’ve obviously noted how I’m starting to feel about Dannej.  Although . . . it feels a bit odd to find a girl Dannej’s age attractive.”

I understand that you would feel that way, Axe said in Kale’s mind.  It is, after all, how you were raised.  How things were done on the world where you were born.

However, this is not that world.  Here, she is an adult by every measure we have.  And you are here now, Kale.  Relax.  She is adult enough to know that she feels strongly about you – and to decide to devote her life to the service of a goddess.  And she knows that her life will not be . . . placid.  Still she makes the choice to serve Alethanna – and that is the choice of an adult.

Is that enough to ease your mind on this matter?

“Yes, it is,” Kale agreed.  “Thanks, Axe.”

Now . . . other matters.  Axe sounded a bit more serious, now.  Kale . . . would you follow me . . . or serve me more directly?

“I’m not sure I understand the question, Axe.”

To follow me means to acknowledge me as your God, to live your life in a way that you think would please me, Axe said.  To serve me more directly . . . that would mean serving in my temple.  My church.  Or . . . my army, if you prefer to think of it as such.

“No,” Kale said.  “I prefer to call it serving in your temple.  I don’t know what I can do, Axe . . . but I would be honored to try anything you ask of me.”

The honor is mine as well, Kale, Axe assured him.  As for what you can do . . . last night, you channeled energies I gave you to save a life.  And you did it in a new way, Kale.  There may be other things you can do, other ways you can . . . direct the energies I can give you, that would be different, and in a good way.

I would ask you to serve as . . . not a paladin, no, that’s not quite right . . . .

I would ask you to serve as my man-at-arms, Kale Sword-breaker.  To stand for the things we believe in, with sword in hand, and to defend those things with body, blade and magic . . . for the honor we share!

“I would be honored, Lord Davanek,” Kale said, and was surprised to realized that he was slightly choked up.  “I would be greatly honored, sir!”

Very well then, Kale Sword-breaker, Davanek said in Kale’s head.  Go and see Palkor, for he will administer your oaths.  And as you go . . . choose a reward, my friend.  My Man-at-Arms!

“Reward?” Kale said.  “You’re offering me a chance to do what I’ve dreamed of doing since I was old enough to remember dreaming, and you want to give me a reward for it?”

No, Kale.  Axe sounded amused.  The reward is for accepting all that you have – on faith alone.

“You proved yourself to me, sir,” Kale said.  “That’s not faith.”

It is faith, when you choose to believe that I will not desert you at a time of need, Axe said.  Or that I am not simply some higher life form, some alien life playing God.

“The first is easy, Axe,” Kale said as he threaded his way through a fairly large crowd towards Palkor’s office.  “You are . . . and please, don’t take this wrong it’s . . . well, you’re my friend, and I have faith in my friends.”

There is the essence of what many miss, Kale.  Axe sounded absolutely delighted, now.  It is possible for you to . . . follow me, to acknowledge that I am leading, and you are seeking the answers I am trying to show you – and for us to be friends, while we follow this path together!

Now, a suitable reward, a suitable power, if you will, for my Man-at-Arms?  I could perhaps make the sword you wield like those of the Jedi?  A blade of burning light?

Kale froze in mid-step, and gasped, “You could – ?!  No, of course you could, sorry!  But . . . you’d offer me that?”

What good is it being a God, Axe asked wryly, if you can’t sometimes make a faithful follower’s dreams come true?

“Man . . . “ Kale breathed.  “Axe . . . that’s a wonderful thing to offer . . . but it wouldn’t exactly be a fair fight against anybody, then.  My sword is so far ahead of the local armorers already . . . .”

And it pleases me that you would fight fairly, Axe agreed.  All right then, choose another . . . ability.

“Actually,” Kale said, grinning now, “that’s pretty easy, sir.  You offered me one Jedi ability that would make things unfair in my favor.  Instead . . . perhaps something that makes it impossible to make them totally unfair against me?”

What do you mean? Axe asked, sounding intrigued.

“The Jedi combat sense,” Kale said.  “That knowing everything that’s going on in your vicinity, whether you can see it or sense it normally or not.  If the enemy can’t attack me by surprise, if I can see – or sense – the one attacking from behind . . . I’ve got a better chance of surviving.  Would that be all right?”

Axe almost shouted laughter in Kale’s head.

That would be better than all right, my Man-at-arms! Axe said.  I tell you now, you are the first to hold this office, Kale Sword-breaker – but you shall not be the last.  And with the title, every man or woman who holds the office shall have the ability you speak of!

“Wow,” Kale said softly.  “Thanks, m’Lord Axe!”

You are more than welcome, Kale.

Kale arrived at Palkor’s office then, and the door was opened before he could even raise his hand to knock.   Palkor grinned at Kale, and motioned him in.  Once both were seated, the older man spoke.

“Davanek is most pleased, Kale Sword-breaker,” Palkor said.  “As am I, for I did not expect you to find . . . peace with Davanek’s power so quickly – let alone to use it!”

“I’m just glad it was there for me to use,” Kale said.  “And that I was able to use it well enough to heal Rikas of the Watch.”

“As are we,” Palkor agreed.  “Rikas is a good man, and a reliable one.  Arteneh is grateful, as well, I am sure, for it is his temple that Rikas attends.

“Now . . . Kale, I would ask a favor of you, if you are willing?”

“I’ll try it, whatever it is.”

“Good enough,” Palkor agreed.  “There are those who don’t like being in front of a crowd, though.  If you are one such, refuse.  There will be no penalty.”

“I’m not scared of crowds,” Kale said.  “I wanted to be a performer on my home world, remember?”

“Ah, good,” Palkor said.  “Then you won’t mind I hope.

“I’d like to administer your oaths to Davanek at the noon service, Kale, if I may.”

For a moment, Kale just stared, and thought.  His mind went back to the baptisms he’d seen, the holy-roller-southern-tent-revival looking things that he’d seen a few times when he’d gone to church to please his mother.

Then he shook his head, sharply, and thought of the quiet dignity of Palkor’s service the day before.  He remembered the quiet, gentle urgency that had filled Quinaav, at the Temple of Alethanna, and the aura of serenity that the woman wore like a cloak.

And he remembered the way that joking with Davanek this morning had made him feel, like he was joking with his father – and Kale had always been able to trust his father.

“It would be an honor, Palkor.”

“As much our honor as yours, Kale,” Palkor said.  “As much our honor as yours.”

An hour later, Kale joined Palkor on the altar, and listened.

“Davanek’s blessing on you all,” Palkor said in opening.  “May honor and excellence follow you through life.

“Today we are granted an unusual opportunity.  Today, I am instructed by my Lord Davanek to administer an oath for the first time, to create a new office in the service of Davanek.  This has not happened in more than a thousand years, gentlebeings, so I pray you will be as honored as I am to be a part of this day!”

There was a rumbling from the crowd, though it quieted swiftly, and Kale felt the first tinglings of stage fright.

Axe? Kale said in his head.  Has it really been that long, since you created a new position in your temple?

Indeed it has, Axe said.  It should have been done long ago, perhaps – but the need was not strong enough, the situation not serious enough – and I had no outside viewpoint to draw on, as I do now.

“Kale Sword-breaker,” Palkor said.  “If you have not heard the name, then you must be newly arrived in the city.  His actions since coming here have spurred ballads, tavern-tales and even children’s play – for today, as I returned from my morning run, I heard children in the street arguing over who would be the Sword-breaker, as they played at swords.”

This garnered a swell of applause, and Kale found himself blushing scarlet, almost as dark as the dark red shirt from home that he’d put on for the occasion.  He hadn’t known that kids were playing at being him!

This is even better than kids  pretending to be the Jedi I was going to play! he thought.

“And Kale Sword-breaker has performed not just feats of courage and swordsmanship – he has also done something that was, for him, much more difficult,” Palkor continued.  “Kale Sword-breaker is and Outworlder, from a world where there is no magic to speak of, where sages and their learning rule the day . . . and where the God of the predominant religion in his homeland is a being who demands faith – without evidence.  Where those who preach his words cannot heal with a touch, cannot use magic to save a life, be it through healing, or magically assaulting a criminal.

“This god, and many others, if I understand him correctly, give their followers no rewards for their love and faith while those followers live.  All their faith and service is rewarded in the afterlife only . . . .”

There were rumblings of disbelief through the crowd, and looks of shock.

“Davanek has assured me that Kale Sword-breaker speaks the truth about the predominant god in his homeland, and the truth as he knows it about other religions.

“Is it any wonder that Kale Connor did not believe in gods when he came to our world?”

That got a rumble that edged on a roar.

“Gently, my friends,” Palkor said.  “Think on this . . . Kale Sword-breaker’s actions proved him a man of honor – before he ever knew that there were gods, let alone gods whose sphere was honor and honorable men!

“Any who would say otherwise . . . well, I would defy you to say it to his face!”

This time there was laughter.

“And this brings me to the greatest act of courage that Kale Sword-breaker has performed since coming here,” Palkor said.  “All of his life, Kale Sword-breaker has believed that there were no gods.  That religion was a desperate flight of fancy, invented and believed in by those whose lives were so miserable that they needed to believe in a heavenly afterlife.

“And shortly after he came to our world, Kale did something that only the bravest of men do . . . he opened his mind to a new and different truth!”

That got a near-roar of approval out of the crowd.

“And last night . . . “ Palkor said, “last night, here in this temple, Kale did what I cannot imagine doing, were our circumstances reversed.

“Kale Sword-breaker made a leap of faith, in order to save the life of a man he barely knew – and he opened himself to the ways and magics of our Lord Davanek – who granted Kale his power, without hesitation!  And Kale Sword-breaker did use those magics to heal a member of the watch that he might survive until a more experienced cleric could reach him!  Today, Rikas of the Watch is performing his duties – because one man had the courage to discard his disbelief!”

The crowd shout-roared their approval of Kale and his actions, and Kale realized he was grinning like a fool in the face of that approval.

“Is it any wonder,” Palkor said, raising his voice to be heard.  The crowd quieted, and he continued more normally.  “Is it any wonder that Davanek was so pleased with the honor and determination of this man, this Outworlder who overcame his own disbelief, that the Lord of Honorable Warfare created a new post in his temple for this man to fill?  A position that, as time goes on, will be expanded to include others who might have served – or even be serving – less than as well as they might in Davanek’s temple?

“Lord Davanek has never been afraid of new things – but never before has he encountered a mind so full of new ways of thinking.  Kale Sword-breaker will be the first Man-at-Arms to Lord Davanek.  He will not be the last, and, Gods willing, there will be those who come after him who share his imagination, his gift for thinking in ways we are not used to.”

That got a chuckle, and Kale realized that these people were actually on his side.  They weren’t angry that some Outworlder had come along and been rewarded for simply believing in a truth they knew.  They were on his side!

“So,” Palkor said.  “Davanek gave me the words of the oath Kale is to swear . . . and I would witness his oaths here, now, that all may know of this change, and what it may mean . . . those of you who are passing through, tell the others of our faith when you meet them, when you go to the temples in other towns!

“Kale Sword-breaker, come forward.”

Kale stepped out of line and stepped over to Palkor, who had stepped out in front of the podium.  He assumed the position that Palkor had shown him earlier, down on one knee, hands straight out in front of him, the temporarily empty sword sheath on his left stretching out behind him in a neat, straight line.

Palkor reached behind the podium, and took Kale’s long, straight blade out from where it had been propped against a shelf.  He placed the weapon neatly and carefully across Kale’s palms, and took a small step back.

“Kale Sword-breaker,” Palkor said in a voice that suddenly rang with tones of both command and faith, “You have chosen to enter the service of Davanek, the Lord of Honorable Warfare.  Are you certain of this choice?”

“I am.”

“Then I ask you, Kale Sword-breaker,” Palkor said, the small smile on his lips belying the gravity of his tone, “to repeat the oath that Davanek now gives you.”

And suddenly, the words were there in Kale’s head, written in gold and red for him to see, spoken in Davanek’s deep, powerful voice for him to hear – and Kale knew that time was stretched for him, that he might consider the oath, without seeming to hesitate at all, to those who watched.

He didn’t need the stretch.  The oath contained nothing that he objected to at all.

“I, Kale Sword-breaker, do swear this day to wield the blade I hold in the service of Davanek, the Lord of Honorable Warfare.  I will place my body, my blade and the magic granted me by Davanek between the innocent and those who would harm them.  I will obey the will of Davanek as he makes it known to me, or as made known to my by his priests.  I will obey those above me in his army, or in any army I join that has his blessing.  I will respect those who follow other faiths, so long as I am given that respect in return.  I will conduct myself with honor in all dealings with those who are honorable with me.  I will pursue excellence in all things, for excellence should not be limited to feats of arms.

“This do I swear by the blade I hold, the life I am given by the gods, the power granted me by Davanek, and the honor I share with him!”

The roar that greeted Kale’s completion of the oath was damn near enough to deafen him, as he shot his sword back into it’s sheath and accepted Palkor’s hand to pull himself up.

“Welcome, Kale Sword-breaker, to the armies of the honorable!” Palkor cried, shouting to be heard above the roar of the crowd.

Yes, Kale.  Axe sounded absurdly pleased.  Welcome, and thank you!

The rest of the service was quiet by comparison, and when it was over, Kale went to the altar to pray for a moment.

“Lord Davanek,” Kale said softly, “Thank you.  I have not felt so much a part of things since coming to this world as I do now.”

I am glad you feel welcome, Axe replied.  And you should know – I have instructed Palkor already.  You will be a captain in my armies Kale.  And, before you ask – that is fairly highly placed, yes – but you are my Man-at-Arms.  You should be placed highly.

“Thank you, Axe,” Kale said.  “I have a title, and a rank, now, and I have agreed to serve you.  But – what would you have me do?”

For the moment, nothing special, Davanek said in Kale’s head.  Save to try and feel the power I have placed in your heart.  You will need to use it against those of no honor, someday soon.  You should try to learn how it may best be used, between now and that day.

More immediately . . . after the games tomorrow, I would have you buy your young lady dinner.

“I hope every instruction you ever give me is that easy to follow,” Kale said, laughing quietly.

They won’t be, I fear, Axe told him.  But . . . here is one more I think you will find easy to follow, Kale; soon, you will meet a man who laughs aloud when you defeat him.

Follow him, Kale.  Take his cause as your own, as our own – and follow him as you would a general in my armies.

“It will be done,” Kale said.  “Thank you, sir.”

Kale stood and walked towards Palkor’s office, grinning slightly.

“Follow a man who laughs when I defeat him,” Kale said as he walked.  “Laughs at being beaten?

“I like him already!”

_________________________________________________

Quinaav, High Priestess of Alethanna’s faith, finished the evening services at the Temple of Justice and slipped quietly out to the gardens, leaving the juniors to clean up the hall.  The crowd had been well over a hundred, this time, up quite a ways from the day before.  Each service since that of the Miracle had been better attended than the last, as word spread – quietly, and only where it needed to be spread – of what Alethanna had promised was coming.

Quinaav sat in the gardens and prayed quietly for some time.  She lost herself in the silver fires of the Goddess, until a voice broke her out of her reverie.

“High Priestess!”

Quinaav opened her eyes to see Dannej standing a few feet from her.  The girl’s hair had been trimmed, and her bangs no longer hung in her eyes, which were now almost glowing with excitement, and she was smiling hugely.  Whatever had excited her, at least it was good news.

“High Priestess, come to the altar, please!” Dannej said.  “There is a man there, worshipping, and . . . .”

“Is he ill or injured?” Quinaav asked.  “Or has he requested a priest or priestess?”

“No, High Priestess,” Quinaav said.  “But he . . . oh, please, Quinaav, just come and see!”

The girl’s excitement was contagious.  Quinaav stood and let the girl take her hand to lead her into the main temple, where a man knelt in front of the altar.  He had, for some reason, taken his shirt off, and even in the very dim light and from the side, Quinaav could tell that he was large and muscular.

Dannej was pulling Quinaav up the side of the hall a few steps, then down a row of benches so that they stood directly behind the man – and Quinaav saw why Dannej was so excited, felt that same excitement catch fire in her heart.

He knelt in front of the altar, both arms out to his sides, the palms of his hands resting lightly on the pommels of twin short swords that rested point down on the stone floor.  His blond hair was in a ponytail, and the tip of that tail stopped just a fraction of an inch above the tattoo on his back – a tattoo of the Lady Alethanna, wings spread in flight, flaming sword behind her, ready to strike, star-emblazoned shield in front of her.

And it was done in pure silver.

“Goddess!” Quinaav breathed.

Folded neatly and set to one side Quinaav could see a light grey tunic, almost white, and a dark grey cloak and hood.  The man wore only a pair of medium grey trousers, bloused into grey boots, and a sword belt.

He was perfectly still, aside from his mouth, which was moving as he uttered a prayer, presumably to Alethanna.  As they got closer, Quinaav could hear part of the prayer.

“. . . without courage, there can be no Justice,” the man prayed. “I shall bear the fire of her Silver Star into the darkness, that those lost within the darkness might see that there is a way out. In the name of Alethanna, I shall do these things, for hers is the hand that made me whole.”

Quinaav gasped aloud.  That prayer!  It was him!  She stopped and listened as the Paladin – for it could be no other –  continued.

“Lady Alethanna . . . ”  the Paladin prayed, “grant me the wisdom to lead them, and to do so wisely.  I am . . . unnerved, my Lady.  Never before have so many depended on me this way . . . and I am afraid.  I have no idea how to handle many of the problems I will encounter.  Without Kayleen, I would not even try!

“Grant that Kayleen stay, Lady, or ask that Arteneh grant it.  And grant me the strength to . . . carry this weight – that your will may be done.”

The man stopped speaking, and simply knelt there, in silent communion with Alethanna – and Quinaav saw the last piece of evidence she needed to see, to be completely convinced that this man was in fact Her Paladin.

Lines of silver fire began chasing around his torso, illuminating the tattoo on his back, and highlighting those on his forearms . . . .

“Goddess burning!” Quinaav whispered.

“Is it . . . “ Dannej whispered back. “Quinaav . . . is it him?”

“It is, Dannej!” Quinaav answered.  “It is. We are blessed!”

“Oh, Goddess,” Dannej said, licking her lips.  “If he requires a service of us . . . Quinaav, should I alert the others? Let them know he is here?”

“No, Dannej,” Quinaav answered. “The Paladin was at the sunset service. I recognize him, now. If he had wanted to be recognized, and needed our service, he could have done so before the service started. He wishes privacy, I think – to commune with the Lady.

“We will grant him that.”

At that moment, the Paladin rolled his hands forward, grabbing the hilts of his short swords, flipped them into the air, caught them, blades down, and shot them into the twin sheathes on his hips. Still kneeling, he then reached for his tunic, which he pulled over his head and belted under the sword belt he wore.

“Do not leave, please, ladies,” he said, his voice rich and full.  “I have finished my prayers, and I would speak with High Priestess Quinaav, who I was told leads the temple, and the Lady’s faith.”

“I am Quinaav.”  She was shocked when the Paladin turned while kneeling, assumed the position of deep respect, and bowed his head humbly.  “Oh, no!  No, Paladin, you need not – ”

“I am honored to be Alethanna’s fist,” the Paladin said softly.  “You are Alethanna’s heart, High Priestess, and I respect that more than I can say.”

“And I cannot help but respect you more than words will permit me to tell you,” Quinaav said frankly.  “You are a legend to me, Paladin, a legend made flesh.

“I think the only way for us to handle this situation is to agree to be friends.  Would that work, Paladin?”

For a long moment, the Paladin regarded Quinaav soberly, and she thought she had given offense in some way – then he grinned, shedding years from his face, and stood easily.  “Done,” he said, and took Quinaav’s outstretched hand in his.  Quinaav laughed with him, and pulled him closer, turning handshake into hug, as was custom among those who held office in Alethanna’s temple.

They parted, after squeezing long enough and hard enough to cement their friendship, and Quinaav saw that Dannej was standing back, hoping to be introduced.

“I am Quinaav of Khorlan, High Priestess of Alethanna,” Quinaav said.  “And this is the newest member of the temple staff, Acolyte Dannej of Rhydane.”

“I am Altairen of Kavendale,” the Paladin replied, bowing to Dannej, before clasping her hand and hugging her.  “I am Lady Alethanna’s Paladin.  It is an honor and a pleasure to meet you, ladies.”

(Quinaav thought Dannej looked a little . . . overwhelmed by Altairen’s hug.  She understood though.  If she found men attractive, she’d have been overwhelmed herself.)

“Would you like to have a drink in the gardens?” Quinaav asked.  “I think we should talk, Altairen, and it is beautiful out tonight.”

“I would like some fruit juice, if you have any,” Altairen said.  “And I care not from which fruit, even!  It’s been nothing but beer, wine, and water for days – and days in another world, before that.”

“I’ll get it,” Dannej said, “and bring it to the gardens.  Quinaav, what would you like?”

“Sinberry juice for us both, I think,” Quinaav said.  “Bring a pitcher, Dannej.  And three glasses, if you don’t object, Altairen?”

“Not at all,” he said.  “There is nothing I would say to you that may not be said in front of any you would trust.  But . . . ‘sinberry juice?’ ”

“You are from another world, so you would not know,” Quinaav said, chuckling.  “Sinberries are bright purple berries, very sweet – ”

“Ah, yes, I’ve had them,” Altairen said.  “I just didn’t know what they were called.”

“Well, when the first humans on this world began to worship the Gods, one who worshipped Arteneh was heard to pray to his god, and ask if it was all right to eat the bright purple berries that grew in abundance around the lands.  Arteneh assured the man that it was perfectly all right – and asked why he might have thought it wouldn’t be.  And his worshipper replied, ‘Well, Lord Arteneh, I just thought that anything that tasted that good had to be sinful!’ ”

Altairen burst into delighted laughter, and nodded.  “Yes, they are delicious!  And that’s a wonderful tale.”

They talked of the wonderful weather for a few moments, until Dannej returned with the drinks.  Altairen drank deeply, and then snickered laughter.  “Sinfully delicious indeed!  Thank you, Dannej, and both of you for your hospitality.”

“You’re very welcome,” Quinaav said.  “Paladin – Altairen – we know why you are on our world.  But . . . well, we know nothing of how you will accomplish what you have set out to do.  Can you tell us?”

“Well . . . ” Altairen said slowly.  “I will oppose the Dark Gods as Alethanna wishes.  It is not only her wish, but my own, to see faith in justice restored to the people of this world.  But . . . well, I am still working on the how of things.  I have some followers already, willing to follow me . . . even I am not sure where, right now.  But they would join me in my efforts to war against the darkness.  I am certain of only one thing, at this time; we must leave these lands that are dominated by the dark.  I would set up a town – perhaps a country, as it grows – somewhere a little isolated, where we may . . . marshal our strength, gather those faithful to the bright gods . . . .”

“This seems reasonable, Altairen,” Quinaav said.  “But . . . you sounded uncertain, when you were praying.  Is there some reason for this . . . ?”

“I am used to leading warriors,” Altairen said.  “And even armies, though I get nervous, when I realize how many lives hinge on my decisions . . . .  But always before, I have led only warriors.  Now . . . the group I lead has many warriors – and several men and women who are not warriors, and even children.  It is that which . . . worries me.”

“You can do only your best,” Quinaav said.  “You mentioned a helper . . . ?”

“I have several helpers,” Altairen admitted.  “But I mentioned Kayleen.  She is a cleric of Arteneh, and a great help to me.  She has wisdom in the areas where I am but a fool, and is willing to share it.  I’m very lucky.  I’m lucky to have all of those who are . . . my command staff, as I think of them.  They cover the areas where I am weakest, mostly.  And amongst them, they cover many of the other bright Gods.”

“May I ask . . . ?” Quinaav said.

“Of course,” Altairen said.  “Kayleen I have spoken of.  The others are Terel, a rogue and a pleasantly insane fellow, who worships Fareel, Wellin, a mercenary who worships Arteneh also, Kaylira, a duelist who worships all the Bright Gods equally . . . and Naliara.”

He hesitated visibly, and shook his head slightly.  The look on his face was one Quinaav recognized – he was smitten with this Naliara, whoever he or she might be.

“And who does Naliara follow?” Quinaav prompted.

“Hmm?” Altairen said, snapping out of the reverie thoughts of Naliara had put him in.  “Oh!  I’m sorry.  I just cannot think of Naliara without hearing her voice.  She is an Outworlder like myself, and she follows a God I’ve no knowledge of.  That no one here has knowledge of, really, but . . . soon, they will know, I think.  Unless they are deaf, they will know!

“Her God is called Bragala, and he is a god of music and song.  Naliara . . . her voice is . . . Quinaav, I am nigh thirty years old, well-read, intelligent enough, I think – and I cannot find the words to describe her voice.  Garaken – a dwarven smith who travels with us – he came closest.  He said his people have a legend of something called ‘liquid diamond’ – and that her voice is proof that there is truth to the legend.”

“I hope to hear her sing, then,” Quinaav said.  “Perhaps you could bring her here, before you leave Khorlan?”

“I will certainly do so, if she is willing,” Altairen said.  “And I suspect she will be.  Even as we speak, she is visiting Arteneh’s temple with Kayleen, to worship as best she can.”

“I look forward to it,” Quinaav said.  “And to your company, when you can spare the time.  How long will you stay in Khorlan?”

“I will stay until the day after your official induction into the office of High Priestess,” Altairen said.  “The Lady told me of it, and I have much to do while we are here, so I can easily stay that long.  I would not miss such a ceremony for all the gold in the city!”

“Thank you, sir,” Quinaav said, blushing.  “I . . . I’m very nervous.  I feel I am too young for this office.”

“Alethanna feels otherwise,” Altairen said simply.  “I trust her judgment, Quinaav –  you will do the job as well as it may be done.”

Wordlessly, Quinaav inclined her head in thanks.  Then Altairen spoke again.

“Now . . . Quinaav, the temple is clean, and obviously you and yours work hard to keep it so – but it looks worn, except for the front wall and entry.”  Altairen nodded at a few places where molding had broken, and not been repaired.  “And attendance seemed low to me.  I know that the Lady’s faith suffers.  Is there some way I may help?  With things at the temple, I mean?  I cannot touch the warchest we’ve started, to fund our war with the Dark Gods – and the town we will build – but I have monies of my own . . . .”

“You help by existing,” Quinaav said.  “By starting your war, you have helped.  Attendance is up fourfold at least, since the day Alethanna told us you were coming.  And . . . well, unless you have 25,000 crowns to spare?”  Altairen whistled sharply, and shook his head, before Quinaav continued.  “Well, I fear you cannot help.  But it was good of you to offer.”

“Tell me how it happened that you came to be in debt?” Altairen asked.

Quinaav told him of how the temple had suffered much damage in a storm, three years before.  The front wall had been torn nearly completely off of the building, and the repairs were . . . extremely expensive.  Others who worshipped the Bright Gods had offered to help, but Alethanna’s people had their pride, and Quinaav had refused graciously.  Instead, she had borrowed the money from the Temple of Sebek, and they had done their best to keep up with payments.

“And of course they would give you no room to breathe on the payments,” Altairen said.  “I am sorry Quinaav, but . . . wait.”

Altairen’s eyes went far away, and he wore a look of concentration for a long moment.  Then he smiled, slowly, a smile that was both delighted and cunning.

“Of course,” he said aloud.  “It makes sense, given the situation.”

“What makes sense?” Quinaav asked.

“You said that Sebek’s temple offered you . . . what, 30,000 golds for the temple, didn’t you?” Altairen asked.

“Yes, though it should have been more than that.”

“Then take it,” Altairen said.  “Take it, Quinaav, and use the money to outfit yourself and the temple staff for a long journey, and re-settlement elsewhere.

“Come with us, Quinaav.  Come away and make a fresh start where there are no worshippers of the dark making your life difficult!”

Quinaav stared at him, and her mind whirled.  The temple was the only home she’d known since she was a girl of twelve.  But his words made sense, his idea made sense.

“Wait long enough to see yourself officially appointed as High Priestess to the Lady, and then leave this place,” Altairen said.  “Quinaav . . . think of what it will mean!  To your people, to yourself, to the Lady – and to the cause I fight for!

“The center of a faith is wherever the main temple of that faith is – and the main temple is where the High Priestess is.  You coming with us, setting up wherever we settle . . . that could make a huge difference in how things go for us.

“And on a more selfish note . . . I long for the company of those who worship Alethanna.  So I ask as both Her Paladin, and as a worshipper.

“Come with us!”

He was silent then, and let her think.  Oddly enough (to Quinaav), it did not take long to decide.

“We will come, Altairen,” she said.  “We will come . . . and I thank you.”

“No, Quinaav,” Altairen said.  “I must thank you.”

“The Lady wished it,” Dannej said – then blushed furiously when both Altairen and Quinaav turned sharp eyes on her.

“Has she spoken to you?” Altairen asked.

“Not directly,” Dannej said.  “But . . . Quinaav, don’t you remember what she said?  The day of the miracle?”

“Goddess!” Quinaav cried.  “Oh, how did I forget?  ‘Lead the others in following him.’  She told me – and it totally left my mind!  Thank you, Dannej!”

“Thank you indeed,” Altairen said.  “Quinaav, I should like for us all to leave the day after your induction, if it can be done without . . . rushing too much.”

“Leave?” said a new voice from the door into the temple.  “Where are we going?”

The voice belonged to Yaren, who had officially taken over as head of this temple.  Next to him stood Naliara, her purple fighting garb looking black in the moonlight, her white hair shimmering like molten silver.

“Yaren, Master of Alethanna’s Temple at Khorlan,” Quinaav said formally, “Permit me to introduce Altairen of Kavendale – Alethanna’s Paladin.

“As for where we are going, Yaren . . . we follow him, as the Lady instructed.”

“Goddess burning!” Yaren said, dropping to the position of deep respect – fast enough that he almost got into the position before Altairen.  “Paladin, no, you do not – ”

“You are her priest,” Altairen said.  “Whatever else you are – superior, inferior – matters not.  You are a Priest of Alethanna, and thus worthy of my respect.”

Both men stood, shook hands, and embraced.  “Friends would be best,” Altairen said when they parted.  “Quinaav has a point.  We cannot be constantly tripping over titles and rank.  We shall be friends.

“Now, let me introduce my other friend.”

Altairen tugged Naliara forward by her hand, and turned her to face the others.  “These are Dannej of Rhydane, Acolyte in the temple, Yaren, Master of this temple, and Quinaav, High Priestess of Alethanna’s faith.”  He was interrupted by Naliara bowing very, very low to Quinaav, before straightening and smiling.  “And this, my friends, is Naliara, who is an Outworlder like myself – and who posses a singing voice the likes of which I will guarantee you will never forget.”

Naliara blushed deeply, shot Altairen a mildly reproving look, and bowed again.

“I should tell you,” Altairen said, “to avoid any confusion.  Naliara is allowed to sing – but she is forbidden to speak by her God.  So I hope all in the temple are literate?”

“Forbidden to speak, yet allowed to sing?” Yaren said.  “That is odd.  Is it something that may be helped, Naliara?”

The girl – woman, but she seemed young – shook her head, and made writing motions.  Yaren found a piece of paper in his pocket, and he always carried quill and ink.

Naliara wrote a brief and true version of what had happened – and Altairen was both saddened and heartened by what Yaren read.

“ ‘Years ago, pride in my voice, and fear of losing it, caused me to stop trying to save a child from a house fire,’ ” Yaren read aloud, at Naliara’s encouraging look.  “ ‘The child died, and I was cursed by Bragala for my vanity and cowardice.  My voice causes destruction when I speak, even great destruction.  For years, I could not speak or sing, as I struggled to atone for what I had done.  As an acknowledgement that I have at least begun to learn what I must, and to aid me in spreading his word, Lord Bragala has given me back my voice – but only for singing.’ ”

“It took great courage to admit that,” Quinaav said softly.  “And I am sure that your Bragala is pleased that you have done so.”

Naliara bowed, and the conversation turned back to other things.

“I do not know yet where we will go,” Altairen said.  “I only know that we will leave, and go some distance away – that we may have a wall of distance between ourselves and those who worship the dark.  And Dannej, why do you look so upset by this?”

Dannej started visibly, and blushed furiously.  “It is nothing,” she said.  “The lady wishes us to follow you, and I am sworn to serve her.  I shall follow you.”

Quinaav understood what was troubling the girl – and she knew Yaren also understood – but she wanted to see how Altairen handled this, if he would press, or let go, and how he would seek the information, if he did.

“Dannej,” Altairen said softly, “the lady wishes you to follow me, you say, and I am honored by her trust.  But . . . I would be just as honored if you would trust me with why you look as though I’ve just given you a jail sentence.”

Dannej looked at Altairen for a long moment, then nodded, and said softly, “There is a man here . . . I care for him, Paladin, and I believe he cares for me.  I have not even had a chance to tell him of this, and now . . . I must leave.  I will not be forsworn to the Lady.”

“I appreciate that,” Altairen said.  “And I know that Alethanna appreciates it, without even asking Her.  But Dannej . . . no one has said that only the temple staff may follow where I lead, or even only worshippers of Alethanna.  He is a man of good heart, or you could not care about him, I know this.

“Ask him to come with us.”

Dannej’s eyes widened at the invitation, and she leapt forward and hugged Altairen impulsively.  He laughed and hugged back, then set her down (her feet left the ground at the very start of the hug), and said, “I hope that all the problems I face may be solved so easily, and my solutions met with such enthusiasm.”

“I . . . thank you!” Dannej said.  Then she turned and looked at Quinaav and Yaren.  “Of course, if either of you objects – ”

“I’ve no objection to the Sword-breaker at all,” Yaren said.  “Quinaav?”

“No objections,” Quinaav said.  “In fact, I shall welcome his company.  He is . . . amazingly polite and well-mannered, for one who was not born here – yes, Altairen, he is an Outworlder like yourself and Naliara – and his actions since coming here have been those of a man of honor and courage.

“And this afternoon, something unprecedented happened.  Kale Sword-breaker has joined Davanek’s temple, and a new position has been created within the temple, for him and others who will come after him.  Kale Sword-breaker is now Davanek’s Man-at-Arms.”

“He – I had not heard!” Dannej said.  “I hope that his duties to Davanek will not prevent him from coming.”

“You may ask him tomorrow,” “Quinaav said.  “After the Harvest Games.”

“Speaking of which,” Altairen said, “I would participate in those games, and I should perhaps take my leave, that I may be well-rested.”

“A few moments more, please, Altairen,” Quinaav said.  “First for business, and second for pleasure.”

“A few moments can’t hurt,” Altairen agreed.  “Business first?”

“Yes,” Quinaav said.  “Altairen, you would bet on tomorrow’s games?  On yourself?”

“I would,” Altairen said.  “My skill with a blade is such that I can expect to make to the third round before the finals in the swords, I think, though the bets will be for one round before that.  And I will win the hand-to-hand competition.  In the final round, I will be betting most heavily – that I win the open competition.”

“Bare hands against three with weapons?” Yaren said, looking scandalized.  “Altairen, I appreciate that you are skilled, but – ”

“The night I came here,” Altairen interrupted, “I came across a group of Dark worshippers who had captured a caravan of those who worship the bright Gods – and I faced a man who used a long and short sword together.  I had never seen this combination before, though I understand it’s fairly common here?”

“Yes, it is,” Yaren agreed.  “But what – ”

“I could not defeat the man with swords, at least not quickly enough,” Altairen said.  “So I simply sheathed my swords.  In less than two seconds . . . my enemy was on the ground.

“I can do this, Yaren.”

Yaren stared.  He knew that Alethanna’s Paladin could not lie.  Slowly, he nodded, then said, “I look forward to learning from you, then, Paladin.”

“Altairen,” Quinaav said.  “Altairen . . . place your bets on the swords and hand-to-hand competitions as you would.  But on the open competition . . . bet that you will take second.”

Altairen looked startled, and stared at Quinaav curiously for a moment – then nodded, and said, “I will trust your judgment, High Priestess.”

“Not mine,” Quinaav said.  “Alethanna’s.  She sent the message for you, through me.”

“My thanks then, to both you and Lady Alethanna,” Altairen said.  “I shall change Terel’s instructions as soon as we return to the inn.

“Now, you mentioned that you wanted a few moments for pleasure’s sake, as well?”

“Yes, I did,” Quinaav said, smiling at him in thanks for accepting the instructions when he thought they came simply from her.  “After what you have told us about Naliara’s voice, you did not really expect me to let the two of you leave before we had asked her to sing?”

Altairen laughed, and Naliara blushed.

“Please, Naliara – will you sing something for us?” Quinaav asked.

Naliara nodded, bowed, and looked thoughtful for a moment.  Then she smiled, and began to sing.

“When the world looks it’s darkest, and no hope seems to be,

“When all stand against you, then just turn to me.

“For I will stand with you, when the darkness comes calling,

“Those who worship evil find me appalling.

 

“I am Alethanna, my sword burns for you,

“Grant me your faith, there’s naught we can’t do!

“Justice is my blade, and balance is my shield,

“My silver fires, my clerics wield . . . .”

Naliara sang of Justice, and the others listened raptly, caught as much by her voice as her words.

Beginning | Previous | Next

1