Sentinals Rising: Book Two of the Sentinal series

by Helen Garraway

“You do realize I can no longer stand the smell of brandy; it makes me want to heave,” Benedict said. “I can’t enjoy my favourite drink, and it’s your fault,” he finished, pointing his finger at Jerrol, which Jerrol thought was a bit unfair.

  Darris, the third member of their private meeting, snorted. He was grey-haired and slightly stooped, but his gaze was sharp and observant. Darris had been at the king’s side for the entirety of his reign and was a constant presence.

  Jerrol’s lips twitched. “Forgive me, sire. I used the only antidote to hand at the time.”

  Benedict glared at both at them. “You think it’s funny?” he snapped.

  Darris wiped the smile off his face. “No, sire,” he replied, though his eyes still twinkled.

  “Your first task, my Oath Keeper, is to find me a new drink. I expect you to find a replacement.”

  “Yes, sire,” Jerrol replied.

  Benedict narrowed his eyes. “Jerrol,” he paused. “Thank you,” he said, his face grave. “If you hadn’t arrived when you did, we wouldn’t be here today. Our world would be in a very precarious position, indeed.”

  “Sire, I only did what anyone would have done,” Jerrol argued.

  “No; no one else came close. The Lady picked well.”

  Jerrol silently disagreed, but considering the dire circumstances in which the king had invoked the King’s Oath, an ancient legend that many people no longer believed in (or had even forgotten), Jerrol had assumed he had just been the only person available at the time. The words of the Oath ran through his head:

  ‘Do your Duty, Never Falter, Never Fail.

  Lady, Land, and Liege obey.

  All are one, Entwined ascending

  Keeper’s Oath Never Ending.’

  The words were carved in the wall above the king’s throne. The king had spoken the words and Jerrol had been bound by the Oath.

  “Sire, I don’t fully understand what being the Oath Keeper means,” Jerrol said with caution, not expecting to like what the king was going to say.

  “I’m not surprised. I am not aware of the Oath Keeper’s duties being written down anywhere. The information is restricted to the reigning monarch and is only passed down through the reigning line. Both of you sit.” The king gestured to the chairs in front of his desk.

  Jerrol sat.

  “I’d offer you a drink,” the king said with an edge to his voice, “but seeing as I am abstaining, so can you.”

  “Yes, my liege.” Jerrol could see the king was going to milk this for as long as possible. “At least it will save your treasury some money,” Jerrol offered. “That brandy was extortionately over-priced.”

  King Benedict choked. “You go too far!” he said, his voice shaking. “That brandy was worth every penny.” He tried to glare at Jerrol but failed miserably as he began to chuckle.

  Jerrol grinned in return.

  “Oh dear,” the king said as he wiped his eyes, “that certainly feels better. I haven’t laughed in a long time. But to business.” He nodded his thanks as Darris poured out a glass of water for each of them. “The King’s Oath is the bond between my crown and the Lady and the Land. It is a final defence against that which threatens us, and once invoked empowers an individual to act in the king’s name should the king not be able to. You can see why the decision to invoke the oath is not taken lightly.

  “I invoked the Oath, the only time I am aware that it has ever been used, because my son had managed to isolate me, and my voice was no longer being heard. There should be at least one person who could always gain access to me and if necessary, speak in my voice; no one should be able to prevent it. The Oath Keeper has that right. You are my representative. You’ll be able to make your way into my presence at any time of day or night. I trust that you will use that power appropriately.” The king stared at Jerrol until Jerrol nodded in agreement.

  “Of course, sire.”

  “We’ll have to test it later. I’ve always wanted to see how it works. You are responsible for making me keep my oath. Should you believe I am not honouring my oath to my people or the Lady, is it your job to intervene, as you did in New Vespers. The Oath will not be broken until one of us dies.”

  Jerrol stared at him, aghast. “Sire?”

  “The Guardians don’t do oaths by half; that’s why it has never been used before, I expect. No one trusted anyone enough to bind themselves for a lifetime.”

  A lifetime bound by an oath. Jerrol shuddered at the thought. Though he had restored the king to his throne, and defeated the Ascendants plot to overthrow him, they still had much of his kingdom to reclaim. Maybe having the king’s voice would be useful.

  “The Ascendants are not finished yet. They still control Deepwater and the Watch Towers.”

  Benedict nodded in agreement. “We have much work to do, and I am afraid it is only just beginning.”

  Jerrol grimaced. “I agree, sire. The purpose of the Watch Towers and the Watchers has been forgotten. We should be stimulating the Watchers to report their sightings, not letting them vegetate.

  “I would like to suggest that you ask Scholar Deane Liliian to reassess who should run the towers. They should be under the king’s jurisdiction. I asked Lord Jason to send a unit to take over from the warder currently in situ, but he doesn’t have the manpower. Many of his men were incapacitated by the Ascendants spells. It will take time to undo their work. He is already understaffed, coping with the border patrols and the smugglers; he needs reinforcements. The Watchers are at risk, and we have left them at the mercy of whoever is behind this uprising, unprotected and forgotten.”

  King Benedict nodded as Jerrol continued. “There is also the Veil. I left Sentinal Saerille up at the towers repairing it, which is only a temporary measure. I need to get back up there and seal her repairs.”

  “Is there anyone else who can help with the repairs for now? I need you here while we assess the Watches.”

  “I’ll have to check with the Sentinals, sire. I ought to go and awaken the East Watch and Marchwood Sentinals, at a minimum. We need to find out where the others are. They should all be awake.”

  “How are the Sentinals taking their awakening? It can’t be easy to find that all you knew and loved is lost. We must have changed significantly in three thousand years.”

  “They’re taking it better than expected, though they are still a little disoriented. Liliian is in her element; living history in her hands. She will be able to fill in many gaps in our records.”

  King Benedict pursed his lips. “Still, we need to focus on current events, not just the past.”

  “I agree, sire. At least Simeon now holds the Guardianship in Greenswatch. Versillion’s report that the Guardianship had transferred safely was a relief. If only we could retrieve Deepwater as easily. But at least we have one Watch regained and back under the protection of the Lady.”

  There was so much to do, Jerrol wasn’t sure where to start. “I have spent the last week in the archives searching for any mention of the Oath Keeper and the Guardians, but there is nothing that the scholars don’t already know, sire. We still have a Watch without its Guardian; we have to find out how to reinstate it. The Land is suffering, and the Lady grieves.”

  The king sighed deeply. “I fear you are correct. A Lady’s Captain and an Oath Keeper at the same time are landmark portents. The loss of one Watch guardian, not to mention many others, is unheard of. I will consider what is best for the Watches and the Watchers. We must protect them and the Veil. I will speak to Liliian about reinstating a chapterhouse at the towers.”

  “And sire,” Jerrol paused as he contemplated the king. “I believe there are broader issues afoot. We need to confirm where Prince Kharel fits into all this. Was he using the Ascendants’ rebellion as a front for his personal ambitions or were they using him? He wasn’t listed in that notebook I found when I was following Chancellor Isseran. Commander Nikols said he gave it to Prince Kharel. We need to retrieve it, sire, as it listed all those affected by the Asc
endant’s spells and their keywords; we need it to unspell those we can.”

  “Get Nikols searching for it. We need to know who we can trust in Old Vespers.”

  “Yes, sire. I gave Healer Francis the list of those I could remember and explained how to unspell them with the keywords, but I don’t think your son was enspelled, sire.”

  Benedict nodded; his face inscrutable at the mention of his traitorous son. Jerrol knew the king had been coldly furious when the extent of his son’s treachery had been exposed. Icily rigid in his dealings with his son, Benedict had focused his pent up anger on regaining control of his kingdom.

  He had demonstrated his grip by appointing a new Commander of the King’s Justice, the man responsible for the internal security of Vespiri. Jerrol now reported to Commander Fenton as the Captain of the Sentinals. And yet he was sure Commander Nikols believed Jerrol still reported to him as a Captain of the King’s Rangers. Jerrol felt a headache brewing.

  He ploughed on. “I can confirm Chancellor Isseran is one of those Ascendants. He demonstrated some of the Ascendant's abilities, more than once, including his escape. Momentum is building behind the Ascendants for their own purposes. They were attacking the Guardians, with the Lady as the ultimate target. Sire, I am sure they are searching for something that they believe will help them take power from you and the Lady. I don’t think this is over.”

  Benedict frowned in thought. “I will speak to Liliian. She will know the best way to help us search for whatever it is the Ascendants are looking for. We need to find out what our enemies know that we don’t. For now, let the scholars focus on the archives. You need to awaken the Sentinals and find out what they know about the Ascendants. I think we need to keep you under wraps for as long as possible.” The king’s eyes glinted. “You ought to know one of the other, ah, shall we say, peculiarities of being the Oath Keeper.”

  “Yes, sire?” Jerrol asked with some suspicion.

  “The words of the Oath carved into the wall of my throne room… they will start to glow whenever you are in the room.”

  “What?” Jerrol gasped.

  “Yes, it’s supposed to get a little excited whenever an Oath Keeper is present. I’ve never seen it,” the king said, clasping his hands before him. His face brightened again. “That’s another thing we can test.”

  Jerrol held his head in his hands. How many more things was the king going to find for him to test? The fact that there was an Oath Keeper wouldn’t be secret for very long.

  King Benedict stood, signalling that the meeting was at an end, and Jerrol leapt to his feet.

  “You have your orders. We’ll meet again next week. Oh, and Jerrol,” the king had one last parting shot. “I expect Liliian knows that there is an Oath Keeper, because when you accepted the Oath, your acceptance was felt and heard in every corner of the world. People may not know who the Oath Keeper is, but those who know the legends know that the Oath was invoked and that it was accepted.”

  4

  Old Vespers

  Was home still home even if he didn’t recognize it?

  Tagerill stared down at the sprawling city of Old Vespers. It had been called Vespers in his day; there was only one city with the name then. His brow furrowed as he traced the unfamiliar streets and buildings. The whole shape and feel of the city felt wrong. Even the sounds and smells were different.

  He missed the soft-toned quarter bells from the Chapterhouse bell tower. Gone was the gentle scent of the Lady’s roses, which had perfumed the air and uplifted everyone’s spirits. Gone was the delicate bridge that had gracefully arched over the city; its fragile structure sparkling like gossamer threads in the evening sunlight.

  Instead, a bustling practical city with the sound of a different bell, much higher in pitch than he remembered, in the single golden tower of the Chapterhouse, chiming the passing of the day. A new palace, with admittedly delicate spires, sat above the town, somehow aloof without the link to the Chapterhouse. The tang of the sea mingled with the aromas of a working city; hard-earned sweat and coal fires.

  He smiled ruefully. Maybe his memory was a bit selective, but still, he missed his home and his family. They had teased Captain Guerlaire something rotten when he had built that bridge. But the Captain had persisted, and what he had built had exceeded all expectations and silenced his harshest critics. Tagerill was still unclear what its purpose had been, but its physical presence linking the Chapterhouse to the palace had been jaw-droppingly beautiful. Such a delicate structure from an intensely physical and practical man. All lost now.

  No one living knew what had happened, but the Captain and many Sentinals had been lost with the Lady when she destroyed the Bloodstone, causing a Veil to descend around their world, banishing all magic; a physical protection against the undisciplined use of magic and its destructive forces.

  Tagerill had spent the last three thousand years cocooned in a sentinal; a tall silver-trunked tree that guarded the Lady’s memory and her Guardians, until the new Captain had awoken him and returned him to duty in this time of need. He had recently reaffirmed his commitment to the Lady and King Benedict of Vespiri, and today he had a ‘day off’, though he wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to do with it.

  His friend, Jennery, had tried to convince him to spend the day in the tavern, find a wench, and have some fun. Fun. Tagerill chewed thoughtfully on a blade of grass as he lay back on the tufted turf and stared up at the blue sky above him. Oh, he liked a drink now and then, and this lighter ale they drank today—he was starting to acquire quite a taste for it. He missed the warmth that good company provided, but he felt adrift. He’d rather be guarding the Captain, who seemed to be a magnet for trouble.

  Captain Haven, the new Lady’s Captain, was a worthy captain. Astute, decisive, and a skilled fighter. A mite smaller than the previous incumbent, but no less powerful because of it. The Captain listened and took advice, which Tagerill found refreshing, and he was considerate of those around him. Take today, for example. Tagerill had a day off. The Captain had said, Take a break, find your bearings. He was observant; he had noticed Tagerill’s discomfort in Old Vespers.

  Tagerill pondered the king’s decision to appoint a new Commander of the King’s Justice. The King’s Justice was responsible for domestic security and the safety of the king. The Sentinals reported to the Commander via the Captain. Tagerill hadn’t warmed to the new man who now controlled their lives. Such an aloof and coldly controlling man, who was as different to the Captain as possible.

  He breathed in the balmy autumn air and wondered why he hadn’t followed Jennery’s advice. He didn’t want to be on his own. Tensing, he thought of his sister, Marianille, who was still missing, presumed dead, along with many other Sentinals. He was luckier than most, considering the Captain had only woken a total of ten Sentinals out of over one hundred. Tagerill shuddered. At least his brothers, Birlerion and Versillion, were alive and awake.

  The city may not be the one he remembered, but the Lady was still present, and she expected her Sentinals to guard it. Tagerill watched the fluffy white clouds slowly drift across the sky, morphing from one shape into another as the winds up above drove them. They changed shape as a result of unseen forces, but they were still clouds. So be it. He would spend his day off learning this new city as well as, if not better than, he had known the old.

  Decision made, he rolled to his feet and began walking back down the hill towards the city. He raised his hand to shade his eyes, glinting silver in the brilliant sunlight, as he heard a horse galloping recklessly behind him. A woman was trying to rein the horse in and keep her seat whilst trying to keep her hat on. She lost both as the horse swerved away from Tagerill and jinked her out of her saddle. She landed with a breath-stealing thump on the grass, and she lay winded for a moment before beginning to gasp as her horse shook itself and galloped off, no doubt back to its nice, comfortable stable.

  Tagerill knelt by the woman and offered a hand. “Are you alright, my lady?” he asked a
s he helped her sit up. She waved a hand as she leaned into him, gasping, her hand holding her side.

  “Try to relax, take deep breaths. Count to three as you breathe in and out,” Tagerill soothed. The lady threw him a disgusted glance as she tried to bring her breathing under control.

  Tagerill’s lips twitched as he took in her dishevelled state. Her blonde hair straggled around her face, escaping the confines of the knot she had tied it in, her hat long gone with the horse. She wasn’t young. The fine lines at the corner of her eyes and mouth indicated that she had experienced life. Tugging her grass-stained habit, she revealed more of her creamy skin hidden beneath, instead of covering it. Shuddering, she caught her breath and stiffened as she realised that she lay in the arms of a stranger and sat up out of his embrace.

  Her rueful blue eyes flicked up to his face. “I thank you for your concern.” Her voice was deep and rich and her eyes widened as she stared at him. His silver eyes gave him away.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “Just my pride and a few bruises. If you would be so kind as to help me up?”

  Tagerill lent her a strong arm and, holding her waist, helped her stand. She wavered and he tightened his grip. She looked up and blushed as she met his concerned gaze.

  “Oh, please, I can stand,” she murmured, pushing against his chest, and Tagerill released her immediately, keeping a hand ready should she need it. She patted her hair in horror as she realized her disarray. “Oh!” She lifted her chin as she moved further away.

  Tagerill grinned. “May I say, you look enchanting and not at all as if you fell off a horse.”

  A reluctant chuckle escaped her lips as she glanced around for her steed, or maybe her hat. “It was my own fault. I should have been paying more attention. She got away from me. That will teach me. Was she alright?”

  “She seemed fine and has probably reached her stable by now. May I offer you an escort back to the city?”

  The woman held her hand to her face. “And caused a panic, no doubt. I’ll never live this down.” She smiled her thanks. “Your escort to the palace would be appreciated. I assume you are billeted there, too?”