Sentinals Rising: Book Two of the Sentinal series

by Helen Garraway

  It was time to report back to the king, but he had one more job to do before he returned to Old Vespers. He sighed as his clothes shimmered in the sunlight. He encouraged them to dampen down. “Do you have this problem?” he asked Birlerion, scowling down at his uniform.

  “Not any more, give it a few years and it will settle down,” Birlerion replied with a sly grin.

  Jerrol caught the glint his eye and huffed, not sure whether to believe him or not as he paused on the steps. Ari appeared, fluttering around his head. Coaxing him down, he stared intently into his emerald green eyes, concentrating on his questions. How are Saerille and Serillion faring with the Veil? Are they safe? Ari meeped and flew out of view.

  They walked out into the courtyard, and Jerrol raised a hand in greeting as he saw Versillion crossing the courtyard.

  Versillion veered towards them. “Captain, you’re not leaving already?”

  “Lots to do. The king will want an update on the Watches. At least we have good news for him. You need to make sure the Watch is at full strength as I’m sure the Ascendants haven’t given up yet. This is just the beginning,” Jerrol said, striding towards the stables.

  “We’ll be ready,” vowed Versillion.

  “Lieutenant Jennery will escort Lady Alyssa and Lady Olivia to Vespers. Birlerion, Parsillion, and I need to get on the road.”

  “Yes, sir. And you are going where?” Versillion asked.

  “To wake up some more of your brethren.”

  “That is good to hear. They will be pleased to meet you,” Versillion promised as he left the overcrowded stables.

  By the time Jerrol had led Zin’talia out into the courtyard, Birlerion and Parsillion were waiting for him, along with Lord Simeon.

  “There’s another Darian here, Jerrol,” Zin’talia murmured.

  “Another Darian? Are you sure?”

  “Yes, he’s not bonded.”

  “Maybe he’s waiting for Simeon. Have you spoken to him?”

  “I haven’t had a chance. He was out in the field. I didn’t realize he was here, and now we’re leaving. We ought to make sure he is looked after properly.”

  Pausing by the steps, Jerrol shielded his eyes from the glare of the early morning sun. “My mare says there’s a Darian in your stables.”

  Simeon chuckled. “I think you must be mistaken. We can’t afford a Darian.”

  “Maybe you ought to check the bloodlines, then. Maybe he has Darian in his history. My mare said he hasn’t bonded yet; he must be waiting for his rider. A Darian is a gift from the Lady. He must be here for a reason.”

  “I’ll speak to our horse master. He knows where all our horses are from. I’ll be surprised if there is a Darian here; maybe your mare is mistaken.”

  “Doubt it. She would know.” He turned to Jennery, who had a smile on his face. “Jennery, I’ll meet you at the palace in a few days.”

  “One of us could come with you,” Jennery offered. “You’re still being hunted; it’s not safe to travel on your own.”

  “Birlerion and Parsillion will protect me, and we’ll use the Waystones if we can find them. We should be fine. The ladies need you to escort them safely to Old Vespers. By the time you get everyone organized, the day will be much advanced. No. We’ll travel fast and light, and we’ll meet you there.” He shook hands with Jennery and Bryce. “Lady protect your travels,” he said as he swung up into his saddle and led the way out of the courtyard.

  Jerrol heaved a deep sigh as he rode. He resolved one problem, only to find another. Deepwater may be in safe hands now, but what else were the Ascendants up to? The interference from Terolia was concerning and out of character. The Terolians had a deeply ingrained code of honour; to break it was unheard of. If the Ascendants were weaselling their way into the Families, then nothing good would come of it.

  He had visited Terolia, once or twice for the king. It was a harsh environment, lacking the plentiful water found in Vespiri. Remembering the extensive grass plains to the east and the scoured desert landscape curving for miles down to the south, he started to sweat just thinking of travelling for endless days across those shifting sands.

  The Terolian population was generally nomadic, moving from one location to another, depending on their needs and the time of the year. They rarely visited the villages, which had sprung up around the scarce water holes, though they did camp on the outskirts to trade their horses and goods at the markets. The whole structure was maintained by the Families—a network of three dominant family lines and three related lines, the Atolea and Solari Families being the most prominent.

  As he rode, he worried about the possibility of the Ascendants upsetting such a community-based structure, the whole purpose of which was to look after one other.

  It was early evening of the second day of their journey when the landscape around them changed from rolling arable fields to plantings of ash trees. The frothy canopies swished in the breeze, heavy with clumps of seeds, which fluttered in the wind, spiraling loose and shimmering in the air. Jerrol idly observed the erratic path of the seed pods as the wind swirled around them and led them deeper into the Watch. Thick waxy bushes of rhododendrons led the way to Marchwood Manor, Lord William’s home. The grey stone manor house appeared out of the woodland, dwarfed by a tall sentinal tree, its silver bark gleaming in the evening sun.

  Lord William’s steward was waiting on the steps as they pulled up in front of the manor house. “Is Lord William home?” Jerrol asked as he prepared to dismount.

  “He’s out at the plantation. I can send a runner if you would like to step inside and wait?”

  Jerrol handed his reins to Birlerion. “By all means, though first I need to greet Anterion. He has been waiting patiently long enough.” Jerrol walked up to the tall tree and lay his hand on the silvery trunk, welcoming the frisson of the Lady’s power as it shimmered through him. A broad-shouldered giant of a man approached him. “Captain,” Anterion said, striking his chest as his silver eyes twinkled down at Jerrol. He was pure muscle, and he dwarfed the other Sentinals.

  “Anterion, it’s good to meet you at last,” Jerrol said, looking up at him as he gripped his thick forearm.

  “Lord William said you were on your way, he has been keeping me informed. He also explained the situation, that it’s been three thousand years since we last walked this land. I appreciate his efforts even though he did not know if I would hear him,” Anterion said, his voice a deep rumble as he followed Jerrol up the steps to the manor house. He greeted Parsillion as the steward stood gaping at the top of the steps.

  Birlerion shook the steward’s shoulder. “I believe you were offering us some refreshments?” he prompted him as he in turn, greeted Anterion. Jerrol watched him thoughtfully; Birlerion seemed to know everyone.

  “My apologies. This way, please,” the man stammered as he led the way into the dim hallway and down the corridor to a small room overlooking the terraced gardens. Jerrol stood staring out of the window as the steward fussed, before turning to Anterion. “Where were the other Sentinals located? I thought there was more than one Sentinal in Marchwood,” he said as he accepted a glass of wine.

  The steward bowed himself out of the room as Anterion replied. “We numbered four, myself and Laerille here in Marchwood. Tianerille was on the borders to the South and Venterion to the East towards the new forest.” Anterion shrugged. “I know there was heavy fighting on the borders. Tianerille and Venterion were under pressure at the end and we lost contact with them. Laerille lies within my sentinal. I have been unable to wake her. I managed to drag her with me at the end, but although her wounds have healed, she has not woken.”

  “Do you believe Tianerille and Venterion are gone?” Birlerion asked, his voice tentative as he watched his friend.

  Anterion shrugged again, speaking with reluctance. “I cannot sense them. I fear they were lost.”

  “It seems we are missing quite a few Sentinals. I think if we find one, we may find the others. The Ascendants may ha
ve found a way to restrain them. Though where and how, I have no idea. We’ll await Lord William, and then I will see if I can awake Laerille,” Jerrol said.

  Anterion stood straighter; his eyes shining in anticipation.

  Birlerion and Anterion were engaged in a low-toned conversation when the dapper Lord of the Watch entered the room, extending his hand to Jerrol. “Captain Haven,” he grinned, his glance taking in the occupants of the room.

  “Lord William,” Jerrol replied with a slight bow. “May I introduce Sentinals Anterion of Marchwood, Parsillion of Stoneford, and Birlerion of Greenswatch.”

  Lord William swung around, his grin widening. “Finally! Anterion, it is an honour to meet you.”

  “The honour is mine, Guardian,” Anterion responded, shaking the proffered hand.

  Lord William greeted the other Sentinals before turning to Jerrol. “We’ve been expecting you. I’m glad you could make it. We’ve been struggling with an upsurge in Ascendant rhetoric and council irregularities, but we don’t know how to combat it.”

  “There will be one Ascendant controlling everyone else. They are usually tall, dark-haired, hooded, and hovering in the shadows. As there is no one here influencing you, I would imagine they are within the council,” Jerrol explained.

  “I will find him for you,” Anterion said, a sharp grin on his face.

  “Look for a notebook. It will have a list of names and keywords. Repeating the keyword will cancel all previous commands and allow you to redirect them. You will need to instruct them to disregard all previous commands and to be impervious to the effect of Mentiserium. We need to release them to make their own choices. Be aware that removing the compulsion can cause convulsions; make sure you hold them steady, so they don’t injure themselves.”

  “Mentiserium,” Anterion hissed.

  “It is prevalent in Vespiri,” Birlerion said, “and elsewhere, I expect.”

  Lord William nodded in agreement. “I saw you release Simeon and Reid. We will also perform a rededication to the Lady for those who wish to attend. I think we need to remind the people of the Lady’s grace.”

  “There should be a Waystone here. Anterion, you should look for that, too,” Birlerion added.

  Jerrol rose and placed his glass on the table. “Anterion says there were four Sentinals in the Watch of Marchwood, yet you only have one present. We need to find the others. Just because they are not in a tree does not mean they are not still here. They couldn’t cross the Veil, so they have to be here.”

  Anterion looked up from his glass. He swirled the liquid thoughtfully. “Maybe Laerille can sense them? Wherever she is. If you can contact her and bring her back, then that’s a start.”

  “Laerille?” Lord William asked.

  “Your second Sentinal,” Jerrol said with a smile. “She resides in Anterion’s sentinal tree, but she does not respond. She was wounded in the last battle, and although healed, she is not here.”

  “You once asked if we could relocate the sentinal trees,” Parsillion said, a crease between his eyes as he pursued his thought. “I had thought the sentinals sheltered us, that the Lady created them at that final moment to protect us. But what if they are part of us and we had to be conscious for them to be rooted? We are separate yet connected. I am miles from my tree; but I can feel him. I know he wants me to return soon. If we can plant one for Laerille and the others, maybe they will be able to return?”

  Lord William pursed his lips. “We’ve never seen a sentinal seed; there have been no sucker routes or seed pods. If there was, my nurserymen could help. They have been focused on the new plantations of late, so they have all the tools we need.”

  “Let’s see what Laerille has to say,” Jerrol said as he led the way out of the room, closely followed by Anterion.

  Lord William paused on the steps to speak to his steward before following them down the steps and around to the towering sentinal, inspecting the tree with fresh eyes.

  “We will watch carefully,” he promised as one of his nurserymen hurried up, eyes alight with interest.

  The air around Jerrol and Anterion shimmered as they faded from view. The nurseryman gasped and Lord William gripped his arm to steady him. “Throw all you know out of the window. Watch and learn. There has to be a way to grow sentinal trees; more than one life may depend on it,” he said as they circled the tall tree, watching intently.

  Inside the sentinal, Anterion led Jerrol to the supine form of Laerille. She was unnaturally pale; her golden hair curling around her hollow face looked brittle and lifeless. She lay in an alcove protected by a curving shell of bark extending from the sentinal. It pulsed gently in time with her heartbeat, which gradually grew louder as they approached. The beat reverberated through the trunk to the men waiting outside, who exchanged startled glances and observed warily.

  Jerrol dropped to his knees beside Laerille. She was not only pale; her skin was translucent, her veins opaque pale blue lines beneath her papery skin. Silver scars puckered around her right eye, crisscrossed her cheek, and trailed down her throat and across her chest. Jerrol winced at the sight of what usually would have been death scars; few would survive such wounds. He placed a gentle palm against her right temple and the other on her chest over her heart. He closed his eyes and reached out, extending a firm wake up call.

  The sustaining link of the sentinal fell away as all sensation disappeared and he was suspended in nothingness. Jerrol controlled his imminent panic and concentrated on listening for the heartbeat. A soft breeze caressed his skin; a sense of welcome and relief amongst soft murmurs. The sound of multiple voices blended into a soft sigh, like sand sifting in the desert. Bird song; the trill of a bird singing his heart out was a counterpoint to the expectant thrum of voices. The scent of freshly turned soil warming in the sun, recently watered, permeated the air. The essence of life.

  His chest expanded as his heart swelled, embracing his lost Sentinal and welcoming her home. Her soft tears fell, moistening the soil as his chest clenched, and a seed pod pushed its way out of the sentinal’s trunk and fell into the waiting hole—a home for Laerille to return too. The Land took up the seed and embraced them, and Laerille opened her eyes in wonder and then exhaled.

  “My Captain,” she whispered. “I am so glad to see you.” Her silver eyes glistened with tears, and Jerrol gently wiped them away.

  “Welcome home,” he whispered, in turn, kissing her cheek, and the sound of her heartbeat faded as she disappeared.

  Jerrol slumped to the floor, his limbs trembling, an ache in his chest. Anterion braced him, but Jerrol knew he wasn’t finished. He took a breath as he held his mind and heart open to the Land, and the sentinal tree trembled as the Land embraced him in full. An ancient feminine presence touched him. A soft welcome was followed by a flurry of images; a young girl with auburn curls running barefoot across a grassy field, grey stone towers rising from Elothian soil, desert sands sifting under a blazing sun, impenetrable rock fissured by cracks; a maelstrom of wind buffeting protective arms that were sheltering Sentinals, trapped outside time and life.

  His hands clenched around what he knew were more seed pods. The Land rummaged through his memories and posed a few silent questions in the vault of his mind before subsiding to a gentle vibration in his chest, slowly filling the void left by the seeds with a sustaining flush of energy that dulled the ache. He opened his eyes to the worried face of Anterion hovering above him.

  “What did you do?” Anterion whispered, his voice sharp with fear.

  “Me?” Jerrol grinned impishly. “I awoke Laerille, as promised. I think you’ll find she has her own tree, now.”

  “At what expense? We only have one Captain; you can’t even stand.”

  “I was greeting the Land.”

  “You were what?” Anterion’s grip tightened.

  “The Land will sustain me. Her tears blend with ours. I’ll be fine in a moment,” Jerrol murmured, closing his eyes. He felt weak, yet exhilarated. “All will be well,” he m
umbled.

  Anterion picked up Jerrol and lay him on the bed vacated by Laerille. The golden tendrils from the sentinal extended. They would soon wrap him and restore what they could. Anterion watched in concern as Jerrol relaxed.

  Anterion stepped out of his tree and transitioned into the Watch. A second tall, silver-barked tree visibly grew beside his tree. It expanded as it rose. The broad leaves unfurled into a pointed umbrella and the vivid green leaves reached out towards the leaves of his tree. His sentinal’s leaves were rustling in welcome, and a huge smile spread over Anterion’s face. Lord William and his nurseryman were standing transfixed, eyes wide, hands grubby from planting the seed pod.

  Birlerion came across and slapped his shoulder. “You did it. It is possible.” He grinned in relief.

  “Not without the Captain,” Anterion said, watching the tree in awe as it continued to grow.

  “Where is the Captain?” Birlerion asked, peering over his shoulder in sudden concern.

  “Recovering,” Anterion said, his voice clipped.

  “What did he do?”

  Anterion sighed. “I don’t know. He was muttering about the land and tears, and then he collapsed.”

  “He spoke with Marguerite? Is she here?”

  “He never mentioned her. I don’t think so.”

  Lord William waved a hand, his eyes still fixed on the growing sentinal. “The soil; it rose to take the seed pod. It was like it was waiting for it,” he said, his voice tinged with awe.

  “A miracle,” the nurseryman whispered, his voice choking.

  “A miracle, indeed,” Jerrol said, his voice laced with exhaustion. They all turned at the sound of his voice behind them. “The question is, how do we make it repeatable? We need to save all the Sentinals, and I’m not going to be around to do this every time,” he said, indicating the still expanding tree.

  The nurseryman shrugged. “You need a seed to grow a tree like this. That one just appeared out of the trunk. Can it produce more? We could plant and nurture them until you need them.”