Blood Of The Righteous

by J. E. Sandoval

  The door to one of the servants’ dining halls was open, a dead guard lying just inside. David gingerly stepped over the body, leery that it might snap back to life and attack. He walked around the large table to the single open window. The setting sun bathed him in amber light as he climbed outside. He landed lightly two legs below the window as he dropped to the ground. Quickly, he darted past the small orchard of trees that lie before the River Vissik, emerging at the bank. The river was ten legs across and fairly shallow. Fear urged him into the water. The icy touch of the water on his legs made his skin prickle into goose bumps. He was quickly up to his waist in water, desperately trying to keep his footing on the slippery stones that made up the river bed. Finally, he reached the far bank. He quickly ran into the woods, leaving his former, empty home far behind.

  * * * * * *

  The wooden sword was deflected strongly by the armored knight’s shield. Knocked off balance, Gabriel staggered as he tried to remain standing. The knight spun, striking him on his left arm. Reeling from the stinging pain, Gabriel dropped his shield.

  As he reached down for it, a burly priest in a brown robe clapped his hands. “Brother Gabriel! You have been struck. You have lost the use of your left arm for the remainder of the fight. Leave your shield where it fell.”

  Gabriel grumbled, but did as he was told. The other two combatants, also dressed in white robes, rounded on the armored knight. They finally had him surrounded. One of the other white-clad men charged with a mighty shout. The knight turned to face him. Gabriel’s other ally took the opportunity and jumped to attack as well, only to be met with a shield in the abdomen. The first attacker tried to deflect the knight’s wooden sword, falling backwards on the ground. Gabriel stepped forward slowly, confident that he had the advantage, attacking from the rear. His breath left him as the knight kicked backwards, catching him in the solar plexus. He was barely aware of two wooden clacks and the priest’s voice.

  “Brother Demetrius, Brother Jonathan, you are both dead! Please lie still for the remainder of the fight.”

  The knight charged at full force. Gabriel raised his practice sword in an attempt at a defense. The knight swung with three quick strikes, which were scarcely deflected. The knight thrust his sword forward, to end the contest quickly. Gabriel rolled forward and to his right, coming up to his knees beside the armored figure. He swung and caught the knight on his left thigh. The wooden sword produced a clang as it struck the armored leg. He hadn’t even pulled his sword back in defense when he felt a sharp sting on his ribs.

  The priest clapped his hands again. “Brother Tobias, you have achieved victory, but in your haste, you were horribly wounded. Learn from this. Brother Gabriel, you are dead, but I must say that was a marvelous move, that tumble of yours. A bit unorthodox, but effective. It is rare that an initiate strikes his mentor during the Test of Combat.”

  Tobias removed his metal helmet, desperately gasping for breath, shaking loose his thick, glistening brown hair. He reached down, offering his hand to Gabriel. The hand was accepted and the young initiate was pulled to his feet. Tobias grinned. “I knew if there was anyone who would strike me during my Test of Combat, it would be you, Gabriel.”

  The other two initiates stood up, both holding their chests where Tobias' sword had struck. The muscular priest let out a hearty chuckle as he crossed the testing area to the two bruised young men. "Brothers, that was a most pathetic display of martial prowess. Since Brother Tobias shall be graduating, a new mentor shall be selected for you, under which you will spend another three months in weapons training!"

  "Yes, Father Alexis!" said Jonathan as he made a fist and brought his right arm up to his shoulder in the usual Holy Defender salute.

  "Bloody hell!" muttered Demetrius under his breath. "Yes, Father Alexis!" he said, also saluting.

  "Brother Demetrius, your extra comment was uncalled for. Report to the master at arms to be assigned to your new mentor. Brother Jonathan, you may spend the rest of the day in reflection and prayer. You will report to the master at arms in the morning. Brother Gabriel, you are excused from your duties until the Sabbath. You have earned the honor of becoming a high initiate and mentor yourself. If the remainder of your training and testing goes well, you shall be elevated to knighthood in four years time."

  Gabriel saluted the short, stocky priest. "Thank you, Father Alexis!"

  "Brother Tobias, you have passed the Test of Combat. You shall soon undergo the Test of Knowledge. If you pass it, you shall have the honor of the Test of the Angelic Blade. Meet the council in the Tribunal room at sunrise. And Brother Tobias, well done." The priest nodded approvingly at the armored initiate.

  Tobias saluted. "Thank you, Father Alexis."

  "You are all dismissed!" The priest turned and walked away from the group, wiping the sweat from atop his balding head.

  Demetrius kicked a pebble in frustration. "Damn!" he swore.

  Tobias put his hand on the young man's shoulder. "You brought it on yourself, my friend. I've warned you time and time again about…"

  "I know, I know!" interrupted Demetrius, brushing his mentor's hand from his shoulder. "The thing that truly makes my jewels ache is that Father Alexis favors those of you who were noble born, while us commoners have to…"

  Demetrius' voice faded away as Gabriel lost himself in thought. It was the same argument Demetrius always put forth to rationalize his failures. There may have been some truth to it, but not as much as he claimed.

  The setting sun bathed Gabriel in amber light as it slowly disappeared behind the west wall of the University. He had arrived and begun his training three years ago, forsaking his family and all that he was to dedicate his life to serving the Church. It was an easy decision, though. Ever since childhood, Gabriel felt a burning desire to serve God in the way he was best suited. Given his general dislike for scholarship, becoming a Holy Defender seemed the most logical choice. While he was by no means short on wit, Gabriel found the idea of sitting for hours on end in a library day after day, reading and translating ancient manuscripts, extremely dull. He had always been physically strong and had gained a lot of early fighting skills by wrestling and staff fighting his older brother, Alexander. Throughout their childhood, the two boys were constantly trying to assert their dominance by tests of strength, agility, and combat. And although Gabriel was physically stronger, Alexander always seemed to get the upper hand, either by biting, pulling his long black hair, or kicking him in the groin. Retaliation was always an option, but Gabriel believed in fighting fair and would never sink to Alexander's level.

  A black-haired figure waved to him from atop the west wall, bringing him out of his thoughts and back into the present. He held his hand up in front of his eyes to shield him from the bright setting sun and returned the wave. The figure made a hand motion that he was unable to make out, and ran towards the corner tower. Eleenia, his younger sister, had arrived at Avonshire a year and a half ago. In another few years, she could return to Lystra, an opportunity that his chosen path would never allow. A small wave of sadness washed over him. He missed his family terribly, and other than his uncle Rameus, his sister was the only link he had to them.

  Eleenia appeared from the lower level of the tower and ran across the courtyard towards him. She was at the University to learn the art of healing, although her studies ranged from politics to botany. She had wanted to learn archery, but the master at arms would never allow it. Women were forbidden by the University to attend any martial arts classes, but Eleenia, like always, had managed to find a way around the rules. Much to Gabriel's disapproval, she had befriended the daughter of a mercenary captain several months ago. The mercenary's daughter, Janelle Argos, had been teaching Eleenia all that her father and brother had taught her. Gabriel had tried to stop her, but with one as strong-willed as Eleenia, he might as well have tried to stop t
he sun from rising.

  Eleenia reached the group and gave her brother a quick hug. Tobias greeted her with a deep bow, which was quickly and awkwardly mimicked by the other two initiates.

  "So how was your Test of Combat, Brother Tobias?" she asked.

  Tobias smiled. "I was victorious, no thanks to your brother." He tried to give Gabriel a quick kick on the behind, but the young initiate was too fast and jumped out of the range of his foot.

  "Congratulations are in order," said Eleenia.

  "Yes, for me and your brother. He has been selected to become a mentor."

  Eleenia turned to Gabriel and grabbed his hand. "Oh, Gabriel! That's wonderful! I can't wait to send a letter home. Father will be so proud of you!"

  Gabriel put his hand on his sister's shoulder. "Thank you, El."

  Demetrius gave a heavy sigh. "Well, I hate to bust this up, but I gots to report to the bloody master at arms." He turned and walked back towards the barracks, shaking his head and muttering about favoritism.

  Tobias shook his head disappointedly. "With an attitude like that, he shall never be knighted."

  "What he says does make some sense, though, Brother Tobias," said Jonathan. He covered his mouth as he coughed, then wiped his hand on the side of his robe. "One hundred years ago, someone of his birth status would not have even been allowed to become an initiate, even one from such a highly renowned family as the Pinkertons." He coughed again and spat on the ground while rubbing his chest.

  A servant boy ran up to the group and began to collect the practice weapons.

  Gabriel nodded. "Indeed, and if Bishop Sentius had his way…"

  Tobias held up his hand to silence Gabriel. "That's a statement that doesn’t need completing, Brother." He handed his shield and wooden sword to the young boy.

  "Yes, Brother. My apologies."

  Jonathan gave off a deeper, productive cough, spitting again when he finished. "What are you going to do with your leave time, Gabriel?" he said, as he handed his sword to the boy.

  Gabriel glanced towards the north gate in the direction of the main city. "I’ll be spending tomorrow in prayer, then I’ll spend a few days in Avonshire."

  Jonathan smiled and nodded. "I wish I could come with you. Perhaps the master of arms will permit me to have a day away from the University." He began to cough again.

  Eleenia stepped towards Jonathan with a concerned look on her face. She reached down and clasped the side of his white tunic, drawing it closer for her examination. A small patch of smeared blood was visible where he had wiped his hand. "Jonathan, were you struck in the combat test?" she asked.

  "Yes. Once with Tobias' shield, and once with his sword. But don’t trouble yourself, El. I am fine."

  Eleenia's expression turned skeptical. "Fine, eh? Tell me, does this hurt?" She quickly jabbed two fingers into his ribs, right below his left pectoral muscle.

  Jonathan winced and stepped back, holding his ribs. He began to cough again.

  Tobias handed his helmet to the boy, who scampered off. "Is something wrong with him, El?"

  "I'm fine. It's just a bit tender from that shield blow you landed," protested Jonathan.

  "I think you’re bleeding from inside, and one of your ribs might be broken," said Eleenia, and she gently felt the spot she had poked earlier. "Come on, I'll take you to the infirmary." She gently began to lead the coughing initiate away from the courtyard.

  Tobias brought his fingers up to his mouth and began to nervously chew his nails. "Brother Jonathan, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to strike you that hard."

  Jonathan waved his mentor's apology away. "It was my fault. I shouldn't have let you get through my defenses."

  "We’ll come to the infirmary shortly to check on you."

  Jonathan nodded as Eleenia led him away.

  Gabriel called after her. "El, will you be joining us for the morning meal tomorrow?"

  Eleenia turned away and avoided his gaze.

  "Where are you going? I don't want you…."

  "Gabriel!" interrupted Eleenia, "You are not my keeper!" She turned her attention back to Jonathan and continued to lead the wounded initiate towards the infirmary.

  Tobias and Gabriel watched them as they disappeared into the high arched hallway that lead towards the main buildings. Gabriel shook his head disapprovingly. Tobias put his hand on the initiate's shoulder. "There's no harm in what she is doing, Gabriel. She only wishes to learn to defend herself. You should be glad. There are a lot of men in this world who would try to steal her virtue. And from what I've heard, Argos' daughter can change a man from a rooster to a hen in the bat of an eye and a flick of the wrist." Tobias grinned as Gabriel visibly cringed.

  "Perhaps you’re right. But still, seeking out those scruffy commoners. El is nobility! She is a lady and will someday marry a lord or a king! Assuming she ever gets over that stubbornness. A lord won't want his lady disobeying him or being able to best him in combat. She needs to learn to be more submissive and proper."

  Tobias' eyes had not left Eleenia as she helped Jonathan along. "Hmm, I am not too sure about that, brother," he said absently. “And she is so beautiful! Her long black hair, her deep emerald eyes, her perfect alabaster skin…”

  Gabriel gave his mentor a sideways glance. "And Holy Defenders aren’t permitted to marry," he said, patting Tobias on the back. "Well, unless you are disgraced and remanded to the auxiliary."

  Tobias sighed. "I know, brother. I know. I was just commenting on how your sister will someday make a very fine wife for a very lucky lord or king."

  "Like your brother, Dorian?" Gabriel could tell as soon as the words had passed his lips that he had said the wrong thing.

  Worry lines appeared on Tobias' face as the memories of his recently-deceased father and older brother, the king and heir apparent of Aragil, flooded through his mind. "Dorian is hardly worthy of a noble lady such as Eleenia. I would rather die a coward’s death than see her marry that treacherous, sniveling troll!"

  The two initiates stood in awkward silence, neither wanting to be the first to speak. The silence was broken as the evening bells began to toll, informing all students and clergy that it was time make their way back to their rooms. Servants, moments before busily stacking wood or shoveling horse manure, now set their tools of trade aside and formed a steady stream towards the northern gate, back into the main city to visit the pubs, brothels, and eventually their homes.

  "Well, brother, I must get back to my room. Another big day tomorrow for me," said Tobias.

  Gabriel gave a half smile and nodded his goodbye to his former mentor. "God be with you tomorrow on your Test of Knowledge."

  Tobias nodded. "Thank you, Brother. And you be sure to say a few prayers for me."

  "I shall."

  Tobias looked Gabriel up and down as a smile crossed his lips. "Struck me in my test of combat," he said, shaking his head as he walked towards the large arched hallway.

  Gabriel stood alone in the courtyard. The night had already begun to grow colder and he could now see his breath, illuminated only by the light of the full moon and the few lit torches that lined the University courtyard walls. Finally, he would be a mentor, which would exempt him from some of the more menial duties that initiates were required to perform. No more hauling trash to the middens, or lugging firewood from the huge wood pile into the kitchens at the crack of dawn. This was a day that initiates looked forward to, dreamed about, and prayed for. Yet for some reason, Gabriel was not happy. Something had started gnawing away at him, and a bad feeling in his gut brought the sharp, sour taste of bile to his tongue.

  A carrier pigeon cooed as it was released from a scribe's window. It flapped its wings and flew against the cool night air, silhouetted across the moon. Gabriel followed the sound as it cleared the inner wall and flew off to the west. Silence once again fell over the courtyard and brought his mind back to the queasy feeling in his stomach. Some
thing was definitely not right.

  * * * * * *

  "I heard that the Devil himself showed up and struck 'em all down where they stood. They found nothin' but charred boots with smoke comin' out of 'em!" The carpenter that spoke the words nodded to his table companions knowingly.

  One of the stable hands sharing the table with him shook his head. "No, no! There was a feud over the wedding! The Branvold girl changed her mind or something and they slaughtered each other!"

  The speculations went on and on, as they had been all night. David had heard everything from mass suicide to a horrific disease. A few had suggested undead, but were scoffed at. Truth be told, all suggestions were scoffed at by someone. Every table in the common room of the Wayfarer's Inn was occupied by a group of people, and each one of them had their own hypothesis as to what had happened at the Ki Kalendeen castle the day before.

  David set his cup on the table and turned his wooden chair to face the large open hearth. The heat that radiated from the fire did little to take the chill from his soul. He had stayed at the inn the night before, trying to keep as low a profile as a lone fourteen year old boy wearing clothes that were too big for him possibly could. In the morning he would board a riverboat bound for New Portsmouth. It would be good to put several days’ journey between himself and his destroyed home. But David dreaded the trip. The boat would be packed full, as were all boats leaving Lystra. If he had been able to secure passage for yesterday, he would not be here right now.

  A minstrel's flute carried across the smoke-filled air with lively music, in sharp contrast to the concerned muffled conversations. Occasionally, David could catch the scent of old ale, cooking meat, or spiced Iberian nightshade, but the odor of wood smoke dominated his nose. He had yet to get the smell of the smoke and fire off of him, and more to the point, out of him. When he breathed, he smelled it. When he coughed, he tasted it. If he closed his eyes, his mind would take him back to the chapel, under the pew and the pile of fallen timber. When he was alone, it would take him back to the slaughter. David couldn't decide which was worse, and he found himself wishing he hadn't dived under the pew. Had he died, he would at least be with his family and wouldn't have to face the future alone. He tried to put the thoughts from his mind as he drained the cup of the remaining creamed whiskey.