The Black Knight Box Set

by Christian J Gilliland

  “What, no!” Milinka cried out, “You can’t…”

  Crinnan looked at her and smiled a sweet smile, something he had not done for a long day. He locked his eyes onto hers and as she began to protest again, he reached out and pulled her into him, pressing his lips against hers. Milinka blinked and just as quickly as he had kissed her, he let her go. She gasped and smiled as her eyes darted around the room nervously.

  “I will find you,” He promised as he reached out and placed his hand on the back of her head. He leaned forward and rested his forehead on hers, “Wait for me on the other side.”

  Crinnan stepped away and faced giant armored being. The castle lord stepped forward and planted his foot into Crinnan’s chest knocking him onto his back. Ander growled and stepped forward but Crinnan held his hand out and shook his head.

  “I will see you soon.” The scepter suddenly crashed down into Crinnan’s skull, smashing it against the carpet beneath him. Crinnan clenched his fists in pain and grunted as he watched the scepter come down on him one more time. Crinnan heard Milinka scream, and everything went black.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sarasin VII

  23rd of Ramlia – 346AG

  08:00 – Canrom City, Dauid's Tower

  Sarasin opened her eyes and the light from the room poured into her. She did not know how they had opened but somehow, someway they had. She wasn’t in Heaven or the Hells; she could hear her guard talking and laughing outside her room. To her great dismay, she had survived.

  A circle of blood surrounded her and her knife lay on the bed at her side. Quickly, she looked at her bare arms and saw that her wounds had already scarred. She couldn’t understand why she was still here.

  “Had you perished, it would have been quite difficult for you to present your speech to the masses today, dear Sarasin,” a familiar voice said to her. The sound of it sent a shock through her body, her face wrinkled up with fury as she listened, “I know when I delivered my messages, I always made it a point never to kill myself the night before.”

  Sarasin looked to her left and saw the man whom she had killed only a day prior. He stood with his back to the wall and legs crossed at the knees, he smiled and showed off his perfectly white teeth. He was strangely, however, not as she left him. He was young, he had all his hair… his skin was wrinkle free and he did not have a hole in his face.

  “Korros…” She angrily growled with a lowered head. Her teeth clenched together and she dug her fingers into the sheets beneath her. He was the last person she wanted to see, especially smiling, “So what, do I just… see dead people now?”

  “You most certainly do,” Korros beamed, uncrossing his arms and stepping toward her. “Dead people, lost spirits, ghosts; however you want to describe them, you have the ability to commune with them. The Fyres of old were known Shamans back when magic still filled the air of Duraan… it seems, somehow, that magic has returned.”

  “Korros…” She seethed as she looked at the beautiful man, “Why are you here?”

  “You sent me,” Korros shrugged, “Or, rather, the ‘young you’ sent me. I do not know how it is that your child self is in the great beyond but… she is.”

  “You sent her there you sick fuck!” Sarasin snapped as she finally realized and acknowledged the truth of what Little Sarasin was, “You thrust my soul out of me when I was a child…” Sarasin gasped at her revelation, “I… I have no soul because of you.”

  “I did,” Korros nodded his head with a look of dismay on his face, “It is… truly amazing the clarity you receive when you pass. You see things as they truly are. In life we are unable to draw lines properly; we are blinded by emotion, desire, feelings. In death, you see the black and the white. The truth and the lies… even the ones you told yourself.”

  “How are you here?” Sarasin growled, “How were you able to pass into the... afterlife or whatever?”

  “I sinned against you… and others,” Korros admitted, “I was not a good man. I stole money from the poor, I had people killed. I... was a rapist. I am by no means redeemed or saved, none of what I once preached applies here. After you killed me, I simply woke up somewhere new where completely different rules applied.”

  “So you… the murdering, thieving rapist, is allowed to exist in some second life?” Sarasin trembled with fury, “While I, the one you raped, remain behind, unable to die, haunted by ghosts and memories of your actions…” She clenched her face and reached for the knife, “How is that fair?”

  “Unfortunately god… the planet or universe… whatever force holds this all together does not care about making things fair for us. To be honest, I realized this long before you killed me. I mean shit. Look at the world you live in. If god cared, why would the world be the way it is? How could people like me have existed? Why would people like you exist?”

  “People like me?” Sarasin furiously stood from the bed and stepped toward the ghost, “You have some nerve…”

  “Cool it, baby,” Korros said with his calm, smooth voice, “You are no better than me. Do you think murder is better than rape? Do you think deception is less a sin than thievery? You are a leader in one of the most murderous cults to have ever plagued Duraan. Why, do you know how many people have died today at the hands of your Empire?”

  “You cannot just come in here, prevent me from dying and then lecture me. Not after…”

  “Yeah, not after what I did. I get it,” Korros interrupted, “Sarasin I sinned against you. I… stole your soul from you. I raped you; I killed our son. I know all this… I am sorry. My words can never fix that but my actions can. You will never forgive me and that is fine, but I… I want to help you get your soul back. As ridiculous as that sounds. I want to reunite you with your son, well, our son. And that is not achieved, believe it or not, with your death.”

  “You fucking ghosts are wearing me out. Are you… are you actually real? Am I crazy?” She looked down at her healed arms and saw the cuts from where Little Sarasin’s fingernails had dug into her wrist from the night before. The blood was on the bed; her arms had scarred over… it had to be real. Sarasin rubbed her hand down her face and her eyes fell upon the knife that was next to her.

  She thought of reaching for the weapon, of charging Korros and cutting his throat. It would have brought her great joy to watch him die again, though, she doubted that would be the outcome. Finally, she closed her eyes and relented.

  “I will never forgive you,” She snarled, “Never. If I could, I would slaughter you a different way every damn day for all of eternity. Know that is how much I hate you, but if you can get me my… my soul? My son? Then… I cannot believe I am saying this but… tell me what I must do.”

  ***

  The Brothers light shone brightly and there was not a cloud in sight. The denizens of Canrom City had massed outside of the Governor's palace to hear their Bishop Generals and Supreme Father speak. The sounds of the crowd could be heard all across the city, the chattering, the laughing and carrying about.

  “What a turnout!” Quint exclaimed as he and the rest of Sarasin's guard escorted her through the crowd, “Pretty good for Canrom City, eh Eryc?”

  “You can be excited,” Eryc replied as he gently nudged a citizen out of the way, “But contain it and do not let your guard down. Do not forget, you are a representative of the Govian Army.”

  Quint nodded and the group moved onward toward the stage.

  Quint was right, or at least Sarasin thought so. There were a lot of people there, many more than she expected. She looked over her shoulder to catch one of her guards watching her butt as she walked.

  “Eyes forward,” She shouted, “My ass is definitely not going to do anything exciting.” Eryc looked back and made a note to reprimand the soldier later.

  Sarasin couldn’t keep her mind off her meeting with Korros that morning; it was certainly unexpected. The fact that she was alive was beyond what she had hoped for that day. She persisted, however, thinking that it was a sign. Perha
ps she was not supposed to die. She had pleaded with Dura’ana the night before to help her, and maybe everything she was going through was exactly that, though she wrestled with whether it was Dura'ana who was answering her prayer... With that in mind, she continued putting one foot in front of the other and moving inch by inch, mile by mile. For the first time, she could ever recall she felt a glimmer of hope.

  As she walked the crowd cheered and clapped. She did her best to smile and wave at everyone but the sheer quantity of people made her job a bit overwhelming. It was all strange to her, only five years prior she was merely an officer with no celebrated status. Then all of a sudden, as soon as she was elevated to Bishop General, everybody suddenly knew her name and face. Everywhere she went she was asked for a picture or an autograph unless she disguised herself – which she had become very good at doing.

  Her mind again wandered to the previous night. She thought of her conversation with Lazarus, of the promise of security that he offered. Thinking of what her betrothed was willing to do to protect her left her with warm feelings inside, feelings that only enhanced the hope that she started the day with.

  As soon as her entourage brought her to the stage, she would see him again, her Prince. She hoped he would have some good news for her. They approached the stage and Eryc began barking orders.

  “Help her up!” He shouted to a soldier who was standing at guard, “Easy now.”

  The soldier slid his rifle around to his back and reached down for Sarasin's hand. She grabbed it and he pulled her up to the stage. Five of Sarasin's guards turned around and faced the crowd while the other five went up with her.

  “Wow,” she marveled as she turned and looked at the massive amount of citizens who had gathered to see her arrival. They waved and cheered as she looked down at them. The sounds of their voices filled her ears. She smiled and returned their gestures but could not help but think that they all looked disgusting, like a hive of insects that were crawling mindlessly.

  “Big crowd,” She continued, dismissing her thoughts, “It would appear that the whole city has come.”

  “I know, right?” Quint replied excitedly. He waved to a group of She-Faires that were looking at him and they giggled and waved back. He smiled widely, and Eryc smacked the back of his head.

  “What did I tell you?” Eryc reprimanded him, “Control yourself.”

  Sarasin held her arms out to the crowd and cheering ensued. She smiled at them all and turned to walk backstage. Two guards stayed behind on stage, while Quint, Gerard, and Eryc followed Sarasin back.

  “Ah, my Lady Sarasin!” Governor Treyodees approached in a purple velvet suit, “Come, come, so good to see you!”

  “And you, Governor Treyodees,” Sarasin replied with a smile of her own, “I trust you had a lovely evening last night?”

  “Yes, yes.” Treyodees nodded, he grabbed her hand and lifted it to his puckered lips, “Look at you, you are as beautiful as ever. No, no I say more than ever. Why every time your image graces my vision, I find myself smitten!”

  “Thank you, Governor.” She laughed, wishing he would go away, “Your words are too kind. Have the others arrived yet?”

  “Prince Lazarus and Bishop General Klaus are both here,” Treyodees pointed over to a blue tent, “Supreme Father Eckhart will be arriving late it appears.”

  “Very good,” Sarasin replied with a nod of her head, “I will join the other Bishop Generals. Thank you for your accommodations Governor.”

  “Only the best for the future princess of Duraan!” Treyodees smiled widely, revealing a large gap in his teeth, “An attendant will fetch you when it is your time to be on stage. Again, my lady, it was a delight to see you.” Sarasin nodded and walked to the tent.

  “He is a bit odd,” Quint commented as they walked, “A little creepy too.”

  “Tell me about it,” Sarasin agreed. The four of them stepped into the Bishop General’s tent and Prince Lazarus stood from his cushion and smiled.

  “My love!” He announced with a wide smile and outstretched arms, “It is lovely to see you up and ready to go. I trust you slept well?” Sarasin’s mind flashed back to the knife that she dragged across her arm and the pool of blood that she could very well have swum in.

  “Like a corpse.” She smiled as she quickly looked over at Bishop General Klaus. He was a standard Vampre male with an angular face and pronounced chin. His black hair was kept short on its sides and slicked back on top and he had twin scars over his lips.

  Bishop General Klaus was the head of the Inquisitors. He oversaw every aspect of the entire militarized police force over all of the Empire and personally trained the Reapers, the heavy hydraulic armored soldiers known for their prowess with killing Ancients and absorbing their abilities.

  “Hello Lord Klaus,” She greeted her fellow Bishop General with a respectful nod, “It is good to see you.”

  “And you, Lady Sarasin,” Klaus returned from his scarred lips, “It has been a few weeks.”

  “Yes, well we all keep very busy,” Sarasin said, “There is much work between the five of us.” Klaus nodded and smiled.

  “My Lord Klaus, would it be a burden for you to excuse us for a moment?” Lazarus asked, turning towards his betrothed, “Lady Sarasin and I need to briefly discuss a personal matter.”

  “Of course, my Prince,” Klaus nodded as he stood up from his cushion.

  When he and the other guards had gone, Lazarus smiled his trademark smile and turned his attention toward Sarasin’s guards, “Do you mind?”

  “It is okay Lazarus,” Sarasin stepped in, “They are aware of the situation.”

  “Hopefully they are all that are aware.” Lazarus raised an eyebrow, but his tone did not change. Sarasin briefly thought back to the conversation she had on the pier with her brother and nodded.

  “They are the only people that know.” She lied.

  “Very good,” Lazarus said, eyeing Eryc, “Well then all four of you can relax knowing that the matter has been completely resolved.”

  Sarasin smiled and let out a sigh of relief, “Thank you, Lazarus.” She walked up and wrapped her arms around. He, in turn, rested his chin on the top of her head and returned the embrace.

  “The two witnesses have been banished to Westlaan,” He continued, “Death was perhaps too unjust a punishment, my empathetic nature got the best of me. Even if the monks do survive in that dangerous land, we should have no fear of them telling anyone the truth of what happened. Not that anyone else there would care..."

  “Westlaan...” Sarasin repeated, thinking briefly about the land also known as Purgatory, “Very good. Thank you.” She hugged him tighter.

  “So banish anything regarding the matter from your mind, my love,” Lazarus reassured her with his comforting smile, “It is done and over with and you will never have the need to think of it again. Now, moving forward, I trust you are prepared to give your speech?”

  “Yes,” Sarasin nodded, returning his smile, “Eryc has my speech right now.”

  “Ah,” Lazarus turned to Eryc, "Captain Eryconius, champion of Dema'Ardun,” His smile did not cease and he stepped toward the Captain and firmly took hold of each of his arms. He gave Eryc a silent nod of approval, “May I see the document?” Eric nodded and handed over a small square datachip. Lazarus rubbed it with his thumb and index finger and as the information passed from the chip and into his NaNe, he reviewed it and smiled.

  “Yes, very good,” Lazarus commended the man with a tone only a politician could achieve, “Well written, truly your mastery of prose rivals that of your swordsmanship.”

  “Thank you, your grace.” Eryc bowed his head reverently before his Prince and Lazarus lightly caressed the side of the Captain's head.

  “Well then, no need to leave Lord Klaus waiting alone out in the heat,” Lazarus patted Eryc's shoulder and turned, looking at everyone in the tent, “Shall we?” Sarasin nodded and the five of them walked outside.

  “‘Tis a lovely day, no?” Klaus s
poke flatly and without emotion, as the other two Bishop Generals approached him, “Perfectly suited for the festivities, why, it would almost lead one to forget about the horrors outside these walls." He paused and drilled his eyes into Sarasin, "Or the ones within."

  Sarasin could not help but feel uncomfortable by Klaus' statement. What exactly did he know? She smiled and nodded at the Bishop General and Lazarus spoke.

  “Indeed. Not a cloud in the heavens, not a worry to be seen. I am sure my grandmother, our great goddess Dura’ana will be most pleased with our performances today.”

  “Performance.” Sarasin thought sourly, “Is that all we are giving?”

  “It is,” She heard Korros’ voice reply. He, being only visible to her, appeared behind Lazarus and smiled his handsome smile, “Go and tell all people what you wish them to believe."

  Sarasin looked around briefly, hoping that the children had not joined her as well. She did not see them and as a bead of sweat dripped from her temple, she tried to focus on her... real companions.

  Inside her head, the doubt had begun to fester again. She knew exactly how the Govian hierarchy operated and felt that none of it was truly fueled by passion or commitment to the goddess. To her, everything seemed centered around generating hype and convincing the citizens that they needed to be excited about the “true goal” of the Govian Empire – the spreading of the Words of the Prophets, and cultivation of faith in Dura’Ana… the false goddess, she could not help but feel.

  She saw the product of the Empire’s theocratic efforts as a drug of sorts – a sedative to keep the citizens blind and deaf to what was really going on. She knew the government was using the ideals of the church to expand and to keep the citizens in line, and the threat of eternal punishment to keep them afraid. Of all the new emotions she felt, of all the illegal thoughts she was harboring, the only ones that she perceived with any amount of clarity were the ones that screamed that her whole life had been a lie.