by Mark Barber
Tales of Mantica
Steps To Deliverance
By Mark Barber
From a story by Mark and Leo Barber
Cover Art provided by Mantic Games
Tales of Mantica: Steps to Deliverance
By Mark Barber
This edition published in 2019
Published by Pike & Powder, LLC
Zmok Books
1525 Hulse Road, Unit 1
Point Pleasant, NJ 08742
ISBN 978-1-950423-02-6
Bibliographical References and Index
1. Fantasy. 2. Action. 3. Adventure
Pike & Powder Publishing, LLC 2019 All rights reserved
Copyright by Mantic Games
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For Leo, thank you so much for helping me imagine and create these characters - I hope you enjoy reading this when you are old enough!
Chapter One
As the dry earth gave way beneath his feet and he lurched down toward his death, Orion could not help but wonder at the beauty of the Mountains of Tarkis at sunset. The low, golden sun painted the jagged horizon to the north in shades of orange-gray; the harsh lines of the mountains cascaded down to the foothills to the east overlooking the calm, clear waters of the Low Sea of Suan. The Three Cousins – the islands of Eruks, Kurros, and Ge – sat just offshore, the angular roofs of their little fishing villages just visible even from this distance. The beauty of the surroundings did nothing to calm the sickening fear which shot up through Orion’s gut and into his hammering heart as that jagged horizon took on an unnatural aspect while he tumbled over the edge of the treacherous mountain path.
With an audible grunt escaping his lips, he somehow stopped dead in his tracks, dangling over certain death as his thin arms flailed wildly to each side.
“I’ve got you!” Antoni’s reassuring voice called steadily from behind him.
Only now noticing the vice-like grip at the base of his neck, Orion allowed himself to be dragged clear of the edge of the path and flung to the safety of a small plateau to his left. The evening breeze kicked up the pleasant and soothing scent of the lilac, mountainside lavenders as Orion fought to control his breathing. He looked up at Antoni with gratitude.
“Th… th… than…”
“Quite alright,” the dashing paladin’s lips cracked into a charismatic and contagious smile. “We’re here to safeguard each other, after all.”
Clad in the distinctive garb of a Basilean paladin, Antoni cut an imposing figure. His highly polished plate armor was lined with a gold trim, while the blue robes of their Order were pinned at his chest by a decorative golden chain. His longsword hung at the hip to one side; to the other was chained his copy of the Eloicon, the sacred text carried by all paladins. Long locks of black hair framed his perfect face; the prerogative of a full paladin in contrast to the obligatory shaven heads of their squires.
“Thank you,” Orion finally managed, slowly staggering back to his feet. “That was…well…”
“What happened?” a concerned voice bawled from the path ahead.
Orion turned to see Jahus carefully picking his way through the rocks to make his way back down to them. Jahus’ garb was all but identical to Antoni’s, but at nearly twice the age, the veteran paladin’s paunch had a slightly ruinous effect on the splendor and nobility of the Order’s armor.
“Orion stumbled, that is all,” Antoni said. “All is well.”
“Yes,” Orion nodded, “I am fine, uncle.”
A relieved smile emerged from either side of Jahus’ broad, black mustache as he clamped his armored hands on Orion’s upper arms.
“Take care!” he bellowed, his tone sitting in between admonishment and care. “If I do not bring you home alive, your father will kill me!”
“Yes, uncle,” Orion felt blood rush to his cheeks as his gaze fell to the ground.
This was the first time he had ever been allowed to accompany the paladins on an actual task. At sixteen years of age, he was already badly behind schedule for completing his training as a squire – assuming he would ever be successful – and he had spent the last week hampering Jahus and Antoni with various acts of clumsiness and ignorance, without being of any help.
“Go on ahead, Antoni,” Jahus nodded. “We shall catch up.”
Antoni flashed Orion an encouraging smile. In his mid twenties, Antoni was everything Orion wanted to be – charismatic, respected, proven in battle, and possessing a humility and charm which made it impossible to begrudge him his success. Antoni was already rumored to be considered for promotion to Paladin Defender.
“Keep smiling!” the young paladin winked. “Anything you can walk away from is just a story to impress the ladies when you get home!”
“Enough of that!” Jahus warned. “Go on, up ahead.”
Orion watched Antoni vault effortlessly through the gaps in the rocky pathway as he forged ahead. Shifting the strap of the heavy shield on his back so that it cut into a different part of his bony shoulder, Orion set off slowly after him. Although only weighed down by a thick, padded cotton jacket and a coat of mail – less than half the weight of a proper paladin’s armor – Orion was already feeling the effects of the hike. Awkwardly, he was already a full head taller than both Jahus and Antoni, but with barely a muscle on his body, he often struggled with the physical aspects of squiredom. Which was pretty much every aspect.
“If you must idolize anybody, you could do worse,” Jahus remarked as he followed Orion along the path, their long shadows dancing across the sharp rocks that flanked their path in the late evening sun.
“I don’t idolize him, uncle,” Orion said honestly.
“He did say one thing which was very sensible.”
“What’s that?”
“To keep smiling,” Jahus said softly. “You’ll find in life that there are many things beyond our control. Many things. But what we can always control, with a little discipline, is our outlook. How we react to things we can’t control. And for a man to keep smiling no matter what the adversity? That is something special. The ability to keep smiling no matter what is truly a gift from above.”
Orion opened his mouth to voice his disagreement but thought better of it. The sun was half hidden below the jagged, tooth-like horizon now, its fiery orange fading into soft reds and pinks. The chill evening breeze already seemed a little cooler.
“We should stop for…”
Jahus held a hand up to silence his nephew. On the path up ahead, Antoni was stood still and had a hand on his sword. Orion turned to look at his uncle quizzically. Jahus’ eyes suddenly widened and he took a quick step forward. An arrow thudded into the aging paladin, slamming against one of his pauldrons before falling har
mlessly to the ground.
“Get back, Orion!” Jahus shouted. “Stay clear!”
Orion’s jaw dropped open as three armed men sprang from the shadows up ahead to assault Antoni – the paladin firmly stood his ground, and in one rapid motion he unsheathed his sword and hacked down his first assailant. Jahus was already scrambling up the path toward the melee, unsheathing his own sword and grabbing his kite shield from his back.
Orion froze. He stood rooted to the spot as a second trio of bandits leapt out to attack Jahus; he tried to will his legs into action, to force his hand to drop to the sword by his side, but his body seemingly refused to obey his mind’s commands. That was when he saw the third group, another three armed men, scrambling down the rocks to his left toward him. A thousand thoughts danced through his mind as he watched the three men in their battered coats of mail and dented helmets drawing ever closer to him; he wanted to bring his sword up and leap into action, to turn and run for safety, even to shout to his uncle and plead for him to come back and save him. But in that moment, as the three bandits ran roaring toward him, their axes and hammers held high over their heads, the first time Orion had ever faced a real enemy in his life, he remained completely frozen in place. Completely silent. For the second time in only a few minutes, he was sure he was going to die.
A figure from out of nowhere appeared, no more than a flash of blue and white. With the swing of a heavy flail, the first of the bandits flew back in an arc of crimson spray as the spiked metal ball of the weapon connected with his chin and snapped his head back. The remaining two bandits stopped and took a step back, cautiously pacing around the new arrival. The woman – that much was evident in her lithe form – was tall and powerfully built, her limbs covered in white with a blue gown worn over the top, extending up into a blue hood and mask that covered her features. Battered boots of faded brown leather extended above her knees, and a heavy two handed flail swung menacingly in her grasp as she watched the two bandits.
Both men charged at her, the first swinging a warhammer at her head while the second man swiped at her gut with his axe. The tall woman ducked beneath the hammer blow and swung her flail to wrap it around the wrist of her second assailant. She dragged him over to bring a knee crashing up into his rotund abdomen before slamming an elbow into his face with an audible crunching of bones. The first, taller bandit swung his heavy hammer around again, but the slim woman was faster, lashing out with her flail to slam the heavy metal ball into the man’s ribcage. He dropped to his knees, clutching at his chest and wheezing.
The second bandit saw the fate of his comrades and turned to run. The woman pulled a knife from her belt, slit the throat of the bandit choking helplessly on his knees, and then threw the same blade after his fleeing comrade. The knife thudded into the man’s back – his run slowed to a drunken totter as he weakly reached back to try to grab at the blade embedded between his ribs before he fell face down, crying out for help. The woman dashed over, span her flail around to build up momentum, and then brought it crashing down to cave in the man’s skull.
Up on the path ahead, two surviving bandits fled as Jahus and Antoni sheathed their weapons. Orion stared down at the three dead bodies by his feet, feeling bile rising rapidly to his throat. Gasping for breath, his body finally obeyed his commands to move and he turned away, desperate to drag his eyes away from the bloodied and broken corpses ahead of him.
“You, boy!” the woman behind him shouted. “You’re armed! You shouldn’t need me to save you! What were you thinking? Well, boy, speak!”
Orion turned again. The hooded woman paced over to him, her face hidden but her body language betraying her anger.
“I…I…”
“How old are you?” she demanded, standing in front of him and folding her arms.
“Fif… sixteen,” Orion managed.
“Sixteen?” She almost spat the word out. “You should be wearing spurs by now, not groveling around as a squire! When I was your age, I’d already fought a full campaign against the orcs!”
“Orion?” Jahus called as he dashed back over. “Are you hurt?”
“Orion?” the woman laughed. “Your parents named you after the patron of courage and hunting? I hope the irony isn’t lost on you.”
“And your name?” Antoni demanded as he approached, a liberal amount of blood spattered across his gleaming plate armor.
“My name is unimportant, paladin,” the woman said, “I’m a sister, you will refer to me as that.”
A sister. Orion had of course met nuns from the Basilean Sisterhood’s many convents before, but he had never met a fighting sister. While most nun’s duties were of spiritual and medical care, there were a few convents scattered across Basilea whose role was to augment the country’s legions of men-at-arms and paladin orders. Tales of their prowess in combat were clearly not exaggerated.
“What brings you up this mountain, Sister?” Antoni asked suspiciously.
“My business is my own,” the hooded woman said, pacing back down the narrow path to recover a backpack she must have discarded before the fighting began.
She also picked up what looked like a heavy sphere of iron, covered in studs and fitted with a buckled pair of shoulder straps. She slung it over her back, staggering a little under the weight as the metal ball sat painfully across her spine.
“And why are you here?” she demanded as she walked back up the path.
“We are here to serve the Hegemon’s authority,” Jahus replied coolly. “We are here to bring a criminal in for a hearing.”
“Dionne?” the sister exhaled. “So he has finally been declared a criminal? I suppose it was only a matter of time. Don’t look so shocked, who else would you possibly be all the way up here to apprehend?”
The hooded woman pushed her way past the three men and carried on up the rapidly darkening mountainside. Antoni shot a quizzical expression at Jahus, the corners of his lips hinting at amusement. Orion saw the butchered bodies by their feet and again felt he would be sick.
“That iron ball she carries,” Jahus remarked under his breath, “have either of you ever heard of the Six Steps? The Sisterhood’s first three steps are good, positive: the first step is acceptance into a convent, the second is completion of all rights of passage to being confirmed as a full sister, while the third is a little more subjective but is more often than not dying a righteous death.”
“And the other steps?” Antoni asked. “Steps four, five and six?”
“Those are a little darker,” Jahus said as the three began walking back up the path after the nun. “The fourth step is a formal reprimand, a sign of disgrace for poor performance or violating the Order’s rules. The fifth step is a last chance – a penance involving carrying a great weight to a place of spiritual significance. She is carrying out the fifth step.”
“And the sixth?” Orion asked.
“Damnation. Expulsion from the Sisterhood.”
“Well, well,” Antoni nodded, “somebody’s been a naughty girl.”
“You go on ahead, keep an eye on her,” Jahus nodded to Antoni. “We will catch you up soon enough. There is very little light left, and Dionne knows we are here now. This can no longer wait until morning.”
Antoni nodded and picked up his pace to close the gap with the woman ahead. Orion let out a sigh and felt his head drop as he realized why Jahus wanted to speak to him alone. He had fallen short of the required standard. Again. He wondered if he would ever become a paladin. Plenty of young men and women failed, so why not he? Perhaps this too was his fifth step.
Jahus placed an arm around Orion’s shoulders.
“Don’t be so despondent,” he said warmly. “You have ended up on a long and difficult road, and there will be plenty more obstacles. Any path without obstacles will never lead anywhere exciting.”
“I did nothing!” Orion said shakily, fighting hard to keep back the tears of shame. “I stood and did nothing!”
“You didn’t run!” Jahus gave a brief
laugh.
“All I’ve done is get in the way! I’ve been no help, only a burden! You heard that woman; I should be a paladin by now! Instead, I’m barely halfway through my time as a squire!”
“Pay no heed to her, she’s clearly not without fault herself,” Jahus grimaced. “And this, all of this, it is what the Shining Ones have chosen for you. There is a plan! Have faith! You are meant to feel this hardship so that one day you can understand how it feels and will be better placed to help others in their time of need.”
Jahus stopped and stood in front of Orion, clasping his hands on the taller boy’s shoulders.
“Look at me, lad. Your father knew hardship and failure. I’ve known failure too, many times. I’m forty years old, and I never made it to Lord Paladin! But this was meant to be my lot in life and for that I’m thankful. I think you will be a paladin. I may be wrong, but I have faith in you. But whatever you become, all of this is what is forging you into the man you are meant to be. All of this will give you heart, soul, humility, everything you need to help others. And that’s why we are here. To help others.”
Orion swallowed and nodded. Jahus smiled broadly.
“Come now, let’s catch up with the Antoni. Hopefully we can avoid another altercation, but if we do not, you may yet have your chance to use that sword arm.”
***
A full moon hung high in the clear sky, reflecting the glare of the sun that was now hidden beneath the horizon. It painted the whole sky in shades of dark but vivid orange, giving nearly as much light as that one would see on a bleak, overcast day. It was one of the many things that Dionne loved about Basilea, he reflected as he gazed up at the twinkling starscape above him. It was why Basilea was worth dying for. His eyes drew down to the jagged panorama of mountains that stretched out to the north and the west. The calm seas to the east reminded him of his childhood, his father, and many long days spent battling the elements to bring in a decent catch. His smile faded as he turned to look to the south. There, the mountains petered out into gentle hills where farmers grew olives, grapes, hops, and myriad other crops that were the lifeblood of the nation. And it was these crops that were the final blow in the ever escalating clash between him and the corrupt bureaucrats which lay further south still, in their extravagant mansions and town houses in the twinkling cities of Basilea’s heartland.
