Blood Of The Righteous

by J. E. Sandoval

  The confused council members were looking between him and one another, expecting something to happen. Gabriel sat the Angelic Blade back up on the pedestal as he began to become a bit embarrassed in the uncomfortable silence.

  Brother Dechlan, the other Ulsterian on the council, was the first to speak. “Uh… Brother Gabriel, please present your right hand.”

  Gabriel held up his hand, palm facing the council. There was no brand to be found upon it.

  “So does that mean he has been accepted?” asked another council member.

  The Templar Majoris shrugged. “Brother Gabriel, what did the Archangel say to you?”

  Gabriel cleared his throat as he prepared to address his confused leaders. “He told me I was accepted and I needed to start a quest.”

  The room broke into murmurs as the council members began to speak in hushed voices to one another.

  The Templar Majoris raised his hand, silencing the others. “You will have to forgive us, Brother Gabriel. Things like this have only happened in the distant past. A questor has not been named in over five hundred years. I shall take you at your word that you were accepted in light of the lack of the brand on your palm. You may go. Report for the Induction Mass tomorrow.”

  Gabriel turned and walked towards the door, which Kent opened for him.

  “I must consult the Archangel to find out what this means,” said the Templar Majoris as Kent closed and bolted the door behind Gabriel.

  No words of congratulations? Gabriel was a bit disappointed by his dismissal as he walked through the waiting area before the Tribunal room. Still, it was of little consequence. He had passed his tests, and tomorrow, he would be a Holy Defender!

  He was still completely astounded by his meeting with the Archangel. He was practically walking on air. Seeing a heavenly being on this side of his last breath! It was an amazing experience that filled his soul with the purest of joy! Now, he understood the striking depths of the faith that Knights of the Order exhibited. There was no more room for doubt, and there would be no reason to doubt ever again.

  The confused servants watched as he walked past. “Brother Gabriel,” a red haired servant said. “Do you need help back to your room?”

  “No. I am fine.”

  “Did you not take the test, sir?” the servant asked.

  “Yes, I did take it. I shall be at the Induction Mass in the morning. Thank you for your concern, my good man.”

  “But… they all need helpin’,” another servant said.

  Gabriel shrugged. “I do not.”

  The servants immediately started gossiping amongst themselves, but Gabriel didn’t care. Let them talk. It didn’t matter. He could not be concerned with something so ephemeral.

  As he opened the door to leave the Hall of the Defenders, twenty or so people stood outside awaiting the results of his testing. Gamblers, most of them, with several town criers amongst them. Gabriel held up his right hand to them, part in greeting, but mainly to show that he had no brand upon his hand.

  “Did ye pass, sir?” asked one of them.

  “Yes, I did. I shall be in attendance at the Induction Mass on the morrow.”

  “But, they always need carried out afterward! Are you sure you passed, Brother Gabriel?” asked another.

  “Indeed, I am quite sure. Now, if you will excuse me.” Gabriel pushed past several people. One of them grabbed his hand and ran a thumb across his palm. Gabriel jerked his hand back, his annoyance at the spectacle growing by the second.

  “There’s no brand!” the man said. Several of the crowd spat curses at the announcement, having wagered on Gabriel’s failure.

  The crowd quickly dispersed, several to start the rumor mill, others to cash in on their winning bets. The ones who had lost their wagers were the only people who took their time leaving the Hall of the Defenders.

  Gabriel strode along the darkened path that led to the Defenders’ barracks. Soon, he was alone. He would take his time this evening, enjoying the tranquility that filled him, accentuated by the crisp, cool night. Moisture still hung heavy in the air, and the wind began to pick up as it blew through his short, black hair. He inhaled the fresh aromas the breezy summer night offered. This was truly one of the best days of his life.

  The glow of a whale-oil lamppost shined up ahead, its light penetrating the leaves of the trees that lined the cobbled path. Gabriel pushed the low hanging branches out of his way, spilling cold water from the leaves upon him. He shuddered as the water ran down his hair and further down his spine, but it too was of minor consequence.

  Gabriel stopped for a few seconds to brush the excess water from his right sleeve, and then continued on. However, he stop suddenly, startled by a small, bent, shadowy figure standing on the path several legs before him.

  He looked closer at the figure. With the light of the lamppost obscured by the trees, he couldn’t make out who it was, but the shape of the outline told him it was a nun, probably advanced in age.

  “Sister? May I help you?” he asked.

  The nun hobbled out of the shadows, revealing herself to be quite advanced in age. A gnarled hand clung to a walking stick that she leaned heavily upon, taking the weight off of her hunched back.

  “A message, Ki Kalendeen,” she said in a quiet, raspy voice.

  “Sister, you’ll catch the death of cold out here. Let me take you back to…”

  The old nun interrupted him by pointing her walking stick in his direction. “The cord of three is torn asunder: Knowledge, pride, and worldly plunder. Faith cast down must be set right, or suffer we an endless night.”

  Gabriel looked to the nun, perplexed. “Faith cast down? Cord of three? What does this all mean?” He moved towards the old nun order to get some clarification from her, but she turned and hobbled down the path, back towards the abbey.

  “Sister! Wait!” he said.

  “Leave me be! I’ll catch my death of cold out here.” The old nun continued down the path, walking out of sight.

  Gabriel stood, trying to reason out what the nun had meant. Cord of three? Perhaps she was speaking of his three tests, but he had passed them all. Could she mean the confluence of his body, mind, and spirit? Knowledge, pride, and worldly plunder, though. What could that mean? His desire was to serve. He cared little for wealth, the church providing him with all he needed. Knowledge? It definitely wasn’t a stumbling block for him. While he enjoyed gaining knowledge, sitting in a library or listening to professors drone on was usually the farthest thing from his mind. And pride? Bah. He was by far the most humble person he knew!

  Perhaps it was related to his quest. Perhaps he was to gain the three. But that couldn’t be it either. The rest of her message held negative connotations to them.

  He shrugged and continued down the path. Perhaps Eleenia would be able to derive some meaning from it. He would ask her the next time he saw her.

  Gabriel continued on the path, unable to suppress a wide smile. Tomorrow started his quest. His mind raced with possibilities of what marvelous adventures lay before him.

  * * * * * *

  Gabriel stepped forward and knelt before the altar.

  The priest dipped the host into the chalice of wine held by the acolyte in the act of intinction. “The body and blood of Christ, given and shed for you.”

  “Amen,” Gabriel said, accepting the Eucharist upon his tongue. He stood, made the sign of the Cross, and went back to his seat in the front row.

  The smell of the incense was only one of many things making him a bit light-headed this morning. During Father William’s sermon, he and the other eighteen tested initiates had come forward and received their royal blue cloaks in the ceremony that had made them full Knights. As he had turned to face the congregation, he had seen Liam and Eleenia in the third row, faces beaming with pride. He was so happy Eleenia had come to support him. Not only that, he
was happy she had come to mass, as she had hardly stepped foot into a church in the last four years with the exception of a few obligations. If only she could know the spiritual high that he felt right now. If only he could tell her what he had experienced during his final test.

  The rest of the service went as usual. After communion, the priest continued with the liturgy, after which they sang the closing hymn, were blessed, and dismissed.

  A crowd of people pressed in against the honored newly raised Knights, congratulating them, patting them on the back, and shaking their hands. Gabriel was very cordial with everyone, but he quickly made his way out of the mob.

  Eleenia stood by Liam next to the pew they had occupied and waited for him. Janelle had been right and she felt strong pangs of guilt for avoiding Gabriel these past few days. When he approached her, she threw her arms around him and hugged her brother tightly.

  “I’m so proud of you,” she said. “If only everyone else could be here today.”

  “Don’t worry, El. They’re watching,” he said, returning his sister’s embrace.

  Liam grasped Gabriel’s hand in a congratulatory handshake. “Gabriel, this is a great day for you,” he said, in his usual subdued tone. “I am very happy for you. Your father would have been pleased.”

  “Thank you, Liam. It means a lot to me that you came.”

  Liam gave a restrained laughed. “Well, in spite of how I feel about crowds, I wasn’t going to miss your induction.” He looked about the packed room, face turning to trepidation. “But, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ve had enough.” He made his way among the pressing bodies, heading towards the door as quickly as he could.

  “Come,” Gabriel said. “I’ll walk you to the library or Janelle’s, or wherever you want to go.”

  Eleenia was taken aback somewhat. “But, don’t you have duties to attend to now?”

  “No. I have yet to receive my orders. Tobias said it might be up to a week before they assign me, and I am free to do what I will until then. But have no fear. I spoke with Father Alexis before mass, and he told me I was being assigned to training duty.”

  El nodded knowingly. “So you’ll be staying in Avonshire.”

  “Indeed I shall.”

  Gabriel made his way through the crowd, Eleenia walking in the wake of her large brother. Soon, they were outside the cathedral and making their way to the university’s main gate.

  They talked almost the entire way to Janelle’s house, El acquiescing to her brother’s desire to reminisce about their family. She noticed, however, that he didn’t have his usual dour disposition when discussing their departed loved ones. He must have made peace with himself by ascending to the Knighthood, and for this she was glad.

  The people of the city bowed low as Gabriel passed, many of them interrupting their conversation to offer Gabriel a respectful word of congratulations.

  When they were two doors before the Argos house, a town crier stepped in front them. “Hear ye, hear ye!” he yelled. People stopped their bustle and commotion as the din of the city’s immediate area died down.

  “Behold, Brother Gabriel Ki Kalendeen!” the town crier said, grabbing hold of Gabriel’s wrist and holding his hand high.

  Gabriel sighed with a smile, deciding to indulge the overzealous crier. Eleenia stepped back to the crowd a bit, more than happy to allow her brother to bask in glory alone.

  The crier continued. “Here before you is the first man in five hundred years to walk away on his own from the Test of the Angelic Blade! He did not need to be carried, nor did he weep! What this means, we do not know. However, I suspect that we can expect great things for this young Defender. I suspect we shall hear his name in bard song for generations to come. Mark this day well, my countrymen, for you shall be able to tell your children’s children that you were there on the day that Brother Gabriel Ki Kalendeen first became a Knight of the Order!”

  The crowd began to applaud, and Gabriel turned a deep shade of crimson in embarrassment. The subject of bard song, indeed! But then again, who knew what the future might hold.

  The town crier thanked Gabriel for his time and went on about his business of reciting the news of the day.

  “The price of fame, my dear brother,” Eleenia told him as they continued their journey.

  Thirty more steps brought them to Janelle’s door. Gabriel knocked loudly upon it, a bit more harshly sounding than he had intended.

  “Thank you for escorting me,” El said.

  Gabriel smiled. “My pleasure. Would you like me to stop by and take you back to the resident hall?”

  “No, thank you. I’m not sure how long I’ll be.”

  “Don’t be too long,” Gabriel said.

  “Gabriel, please don’t start again.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, holding up his hands. “I just worry about you.”

  The door was pulled open abruptly. “What the bloody hell is all the pounding about?” Janelle hollered. “Oh, El, it’s you. And what are you doing here?” she said, motioning to Gabriel. “I thought you would be at a reception or something.”

  “I was just leaving,” Gabriel replied.

  “Good. Just leave.”

  El chuckled. Their little drama had been played time and time again over the past years. “Now, you two stop it. Gabriel, I’ll be back long before sunset. Don’t you worry,” she said, stepping into Janelle’s house.

  “Very well,” Gabriel said. “If you decide to leave within the next two hours, I shall be at the Dragon’s Bane.”

  Janelle made motion to slam the door in Gabriel’s face, but decided not to. She leaned halfway out the door, looking at him quizzically. “There’s something different about you today, and it’s not just the blue cloak. You have a glow about you. If you were a woman, I’d think you were… I don’t know… pregnant.”

  Gabriel smiled at her warmly. “Thank you, Janelle. I’m sorry I’ve been rude to you these past few years. And I thank you for befriending my sister.”

  “An apology and gratitude?” Janelle shuddered for effect. “Stop it, you’re acting too strange.”

  “Ah. Well, I do not wish to distress you further. Good day.” Gabriel gave a slight head bow and walked into the crowded street.

  * * * * * *

  Gabriel quietly roamed alone through the streets of Avonshire. A hearty portion of stout-based stew sat heavily in his stomach, adding to the relaxing surreal quality of the day, one filled with the highest of expectation that even far surpassed the combined anticipation of every sleepless Christmas Eve of his childhood.

  After his meal and a glass of wine, Gabriel had spent some time listening to a town crier. The man had nodded to him and smiled in the middle of his news of the day, pointing him out to the crowd as having been raised to Knighthood. Fortunately, this crier was less flamboyant than the last.

  It was now two hours past midday, and Gabriel’s meandering led him to the great market square that spanned the small north fork of the Thane River that flowed through the city. All about were the sounds of commerce, mostly women haggling for food to prepare for the evening meal. Unfortunately, the stench of the raw sewage that flowed through the north fork wafted up and overpowered the subtle scents of the many merchants that hawked already-prepared foods.

  “Brother of the Order,” a merchant called out to him. “Would you care for a gooseberry pie? Baked fresh this morning by my very own blind mother!”

  Gabriel politely shook his head and continued walking.

  “Going on a journey, M’lord?” called another. He fell into step beside Gabriel, trying to show him samples of his wares. “I have high quality hardtack for mere coppers a pound. Guaranteed to be weevil free or your money back. Dried meat, free of maggots, and fruit preserves! Flatbread, plus yellow, white, blue, and green cheeses! Oats for your horse?”

  “Thank you, my good man, but I have no
need,” Gabriel replied.

  “Caledonian heather for your secret love, M’lord?” another said.

  Gabriel continued on, ceasing to make eye contact with the merchants. Even merely glancing in their direction encouraged them, his new midnight blue cloak making him a prime target for a hard sell.

  “Weapons for sale! Long lost artifact from the south! Swords, axes, hammers, blackjacks, knuckle-daggers, morning-stars… Ye need it, I’s gots it! And if’n I’s don’t, I’s can get it!”

  Gabriel stopped and glanced over at the weapons dealer. The stout bald man sporting a red bandana stood beside his display cart, filled with weapons of every make and style.

  The merchant spotted Gabriel’s interest immediately. “Ah, there’s a man who knows quality! Lord Defender, I would be honored if ye would consider me wares,” he said, motioning for Gabriel to join him.

  Gabriel strode to the cart, and looked over the impressive selection. A jeweled Persian scimitar struck his fancy, so he lifted it off of the hook it hung on, admiring the fine craftsmanship. “Fascinating!" he said. “Look at the way these gems catch the light and split it into a rainbow. Can you imagine how impressive it would look under the wasteland sun?”

  “Aye, ya know your weapons, M’lord. That there belonged t’the Sultan of Adbah Mushtyat, or some such place. If ya like jeweled items, come over ta this side.”

  Gabriel replaced the jeweled scimitar upon the hook and followed the merchant to the other side of his cart. All of the blades he displayed on this portion of his cart were laid out upon pieces of red silk.

  The merchant pointed to an old blade in the center of the display. “Now, this one dates back to when Elgannan was still called Mercia. It belonged t’the third son of Thingfrith, name of Ecgfrith who was…”

  The merchant droned on and on as Gabriel’s interest in the history of the blades began to wane. He was about to excuse himself, when a jeweled dagger caught his eye and tugged at his memories, long suppressed and buried where they could cause little pain. However, the sight of the blade caused them to sear back into the forefront of his mind.