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Sentinals Rising: Book Two of the Sentinal series

Page 15

by Helen Garraway


  “Of course, Your Majesty. I’ll do anything I can to help.” Lady Miranda recited the Lady’s Oath, feeling every word burn through her as she committed herself to the Lady with all her heart.

  “Lady protect us, guard our health. From beyond watch o’er our land.

  Our Oath to you will bind us all, Lady, Land, and Liege we stand.

  Life and death, a Sentinal breathes, a last defence, well done.

  Our lives are yours, and ours, and theirs. Joined together as one.”

  The king nodded. “Thank you for your assistance, m’dear. Darris will escort you to your new rooms. I believe there is a dinner tonight. I expect to see you there.” The king nodded his dismissal and went back to his list.

  Jerrol returned with Commander Fenton, interrupting the king’s concentration. The king indicated the chairs and returned to his list. He paused as Prince Anders and Commander Nikols were ushered in.

  “Good,” he said, steepling his fingers in front of him. “We have a situation,” he said, staring at the men in front of him one by one. “It seems my son Kharel has been communicating with the Ascendants, and with the help of Elothia, they are planning to either help him escape or overthrow my Crown. I expect neither to happen.”

  Prince Anders let a soft curse fall. Jerrol grimaced in agreement.

  Commander Fenton stared at them. “How can he be communicating with them? He has not left the tower, and no one has been permitted to enter, except that woman; Miranda, isn’t it?”

  “Lady Miranda is not the culprit,” the king said, nodding at Jerrol.

  Jerrol displayed the cloudy crystal. “They have found a way to charge these crystals, which enables them to bespeak each other. They work over quite a large distance, across the city of Old Vespers, for sure.”

  Commander Fenton’s eyes bulged as he took the crystal, turning it over in his hands. “What nonsense is this? This is just a stone. It’s not possible to use it for the purposes you describe.”

  The king contradicted him. “Fenton, it is possible. Captain Haven has witnessed its use and the Sentinals confirm its purpose. The Ascendants have discovered a way to charge the stones and use them.”

  “I suggest we move the prince and his wife to a more secure location,” Commander Nikols suggested. “Prevent him from using whatever he is communicating with. That will make it more difficult for them co-ordinate his rescue.”

  “Fenton, see to it; a deep dungeon would be a better location. Haven, assist him. I want to know what he knows, and I want his rooms searched. We need a timeline.” King Benedict paused, glancing at Nikols. “Isseran is confirmed as an Ascendant; we need to redouble efforts to find him.”

  “He could be in Elothia or Terolia by now, sire,” Jerrol interjected.

  “Indeed, and I want to ensure he can’t return. Make sure all the borders have orders to detain him on sight. Nikols, manage that.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty. We need to strengthen all the border patrols. I’ll advise the Watches. What about Deepwater?” Nikols asked.

  The king smiled. “Fortunately, I am about to announce the new Lord and Lady. They will be in residence by the end of the week. Advise Captain Landis of your plans in the meantime. I mean to assign him to Deepwater.”

  “Captain Bryce from Stoneford is here; he could carry word to Lord Jason,” Jerrol said.

  Nikols nodded in agreement.

  The king looked across at Fenton. “You need to secure Old Vespers and the palace. I know it will be difficult with the plans for this week, but the Sentinals will support you. Check all visitors.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty. I will set up roving patrols through Old Vespers. I’ll also work with the officials to check who Isseran brought in, though, Your Majesty, his tenure has been long; who knows how many are loyal to him?”

  The king nodded; his face grim. “I know. Do your best. I am keenly aware that I allowed such a man to control so much for so long.”

  “Commander Nikols, what of those listed in Isseran’s notebook? We should have unspelled them all by now,” Jerrol asked.

  “Prince Kharel took the notebook. We have been unable to find it.”

  Jerrol frowned. “I gave Healer Francis a list of those I remembered, though it wasn’t all of them. We need to find that notebook.”

  “Make that a priority, Haven. Speak with Kharel, search his rooms, find that notebook.”

  “Yes, sire.”

  “I will be announcing tomorrow that Anders will become the new chancellor. Co-ordinate with him, Haven. He has my complete confidence, and he will weed out those who should not be there. Anders, work with the Justice department to create permits. We need to control access to the palace.”

  “Sire, those warehouses out to the north of the city—what did the report say?” Jerrol asked. “They were built at Isseran’s behest, weren’t they?”

  “Overflow storage, I believe. Why?” the king said, concern in his voice as he considered the implications.

  “I just wondered what use they were so far from the port. I mean, the additional cost of transporting the goods there and then transporting them back; it seemed odd to me.”

  Fenton eyed him with disgust. “I suppose you want me to check them again?”

  “Discreetly, sir. Discreetly,” Jerrol said.

  “Fenton, you’ve got your hands full with Vespers,” the king said. “Nikols, could you spare a ranger to check it out? Discreetly, as Haven suggests.”

  Nikols bowed. “At once, Your Majesty.”

  “We reconvene here tomorrow afternoon at fourth chime. Good hunting, gentlemen.” The king nodded his dismissal, and the men dispersed.

  18

  Sentinal’s Barracks, Old Vespers

  The next day, Birlerion was lying on his bed, relaxing as much as he could whilst staying in a barracks with three other Sentinals. At least half the time, it was empty as Darllion and Fonorion shared the rotation on the king. Birlerion, and now Parsillion, guarded the Captain. Still, four Sentinals was too few, and with Prince Anders now at the palace, he assumed one of them was going to have to guard him as well.

  He had a few hours off duty, and he was debating about what to do with them. There was not enough time to visit Tagerill, though he could use the Waystone and see Versillion. Or he could go and spend some time with his tree and visit the temple, as well.

  Staring at the ceiling, he deliberated. He ought to be out on the training field, and if not training, checking his gear. He didn’t move. He felt adrift. Where was home? It was alright for Versillion to say Greens was still his home, but without their parents, it wasn’t really. Greens was unrecognizable, and without the family, to Birlerion it was just land. He didn’t have the same connection the Descelles had, no matter what they said.

  But then, he had no family in Vespers either, and he didn’t know his family name. He had been adopted by Tagerill’s family and had taken their name, so he couldn’t track his birth family even if he wanted to. He couldn’t go to the Chapterhouse; Torsion would be breathing down his neck every minute.

  He scowled at the ceiling. Torsion had to be related to the Clary’s; he had the same arrogant manner and the family resemblance. Just the sight of Torsion made Birlerion’s skin crawl. It was unfortunate that the Captain trusted him so much.

  He sighed. Maybe he should honour his promise to Scholar Taelia. He had said he would show her his sentinal. He sat up. Torsion would not keep him away. He could also visit the temple, instead of moping about the barracks.

  Decision made, he felt better, and he rose to reach for his jacket. Strapping on his sword, he deliberated about his bow but left it leaning against the wall. He slid home his daggers. He wouldn’t put it past Torsion to be difficult. He wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to denigrate Birlerion, especially in front of other scholars. Patting himself down, he strode out of the barracks to find a horse.

  Birlerion arrived at the Chapterhouse and after stabling his horse, he gazed around the courtyard, once again reali
sing that the only part he recognized was the tower. The rest of it was still lost underground. He was amazed that they had excavated so little; instead, they had built on top.

  Rotating his shoulders to relieve the sudden tension, he went to find the duty scholar. At least that practice was still the same. He smiled at the portly scholar at the desk and enquired after Scholar Taelia.

  “Her office is in building four, on sub-level one.” The scholar pointed out the route and returned to his work.

  Birlerion memorized the route and headed off, smiling at the scholar’s preoccupation. All scholars were the same; their work was of utmost importance. He knocked on Taelia’s office door and waited. There was a slight pause, and then she called for him to enter.

  He opened the door and stepped over the threshold. “Scholar Taelia, it’s Sentinal Birlerion. I’ve come to honour my promise to show you inside my tree.” He hesitated at the sight of her face; she had been crying. “If this is a good time. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

  Taelia wiped her face with the back of her hand. “No, no. Please, Birlerion, come in. Shut the door.”

  Birlerion handed her his handkerchief. “What has happened? Are you alright?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. Don’t mind me.” She took a deep breath and gave him a watery smile. “Please, sit. What was it you wanted?”

  “I was on my way to my sentinal and wondered if you’d like to come too. I said I’d introduce you.”

  Taelia’s face eased. “Oh, yes, would you? I’d love to.”

  “It would be my pleasure. Though, um, maybe you ought to rinse your face first? I’m sorry, but you do look like you’ve been crying.”

  Taelia blushed. “Oh dear. It’s just, I have a bit of a headache.”

  “Then visiting my sentinal would be the best medicine, and it would be my honour to escort you.”

  “Then let us visit. Why we have to be stuffed down here in a hole, I don’t know.”

  Birlerion waited while Taelia disappeared into an adjoining room for a moment and when she returned, tucked her hand under his arm. As they walked, he began to tell her about his sentinal. “I can’t tell you much about how the Lady created them, because I didn’t even know I was in a sentinal until the Captain woke me. Though I suppose that’s not really true. I knew him; we are one, after all, but it was an unconscious knowing, if that makes sense? I suppose there isn’t much about this that is going to make any sense.”

  Taelia chuckled. “Magic never makes any sense; it all sits outside the boundaries of what we know.”

  “Yes. It’s weird not seeing any onoffs. The scholars always used to use them; much safer than candles or lamps.”

  “Onoffs?”

  “Yes, orbs of golden light that were suspended in the air. Leyandrii used to make them. You tap them to turn them on and tap them again to turn them off. Onoffs. They lit up the room and lasted for weeks. Once the magic was drained, they needed recharging. Mind the steps. We are going up.”

  “Thank you. No one ever mentioned onoffs.”

  “They were expensive. They took a lot of effort to make, so not many people had them. The scholars saw it as an investment. Leyandrii and Marguerite used them at the palace.” Birlerion smiled. “I guess you could say we were spoilt.”

  “You miss them all, don’t you?” Taelia asked.

  “Yes,” Birlerion said with a sigh.

  Taelia squeezed his arm. “I am sorry.”

  “No need to be. It’s not your fault. Ah, sunshine. We’ll soon be out.” He turned her away as he saw Torsion entering the other end of the hall. “Let’s cut through the gardens.”

  “What’s the matter?” Taelia frowned as he tensed.

  “Scholar Torsion. He doesn’t like me, and I’m not prepared to show him my sentinal. I’m trying to avoid him, though I think he may have spotted us.”

  “Oh dear,” Taelia said with a smile. “Let’s avoid him, by all means.”

  Birlerion hurried her through the gardens. The tinkling fountain faded behind them, and then Birlerion sighed as Torsion appeared, blocking their path.

  Taelia gripped his arm. “Let me deal with him,” she murmured.

  “As the Lady wills,” Birlerion replied, releasing her arm, though Taelia held on to him.

  “No, stay beside me.”

  “Unhand her, you filthy grunt. What do you think you are doing? Taelia, where are you going with him?”

  Taelia drew herself up, gripping Birlerion’s arm tighter as he stiffened at the insult.

  “Torsion, don’t be so rude. What I do and with whom is none of your business.”

  “I’m making it my business. You don’t know where he’s taking you; you can’t trust him.”

  “Yes, I can. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have places to be.”

  Torsion prodded Birlerion’s chest with stiff fingers. “He’s not going anywhere with you.”

  “It is Scholar Taelia’s decision, not yours, scholar,” Birlerion said, calmly stepping back. “Move out of the way.”

  Torsion hissed his breath out as he stepped forward. “Make me.”

  Birlerion burst out laughing at the expression on Torsion’s face. If looks could kill, he’d be stone dead. “This is not a pissing contest.” He turned to Taelia. “Apologies scholar, excuse my language.”

  “Not at all,” Taelia said agreeably. “I’ve heard worse. Torsion, stop it. I am going with Birlerion of my own free choice, and it has nothing to do with you. Now move out of the way.”

  Birlerion saw it coming and rode the blow. Blocking the follow-up, he jabbed hard and low in response, and Torsion dropped to the gravel with a wheezing groan. Birlerion took Taelia’s arm and guided her forward. “Apologies, Scholar Taelia. Shall we proceed?”

  “Is he alright?”

  “He’ll be fine; he might not be able to stand up straight for a while, but he’ll recover.”

  “That might not have been wise,” Taelia said as they paused for a cart to pass by before they crossed the road and entered the Temple gardens.

  “I know, but he wasn’t going to give way, and he wanted a fight. I thought it best to stop it fast before he got carried away and one of us got hurt. Anyway, let’s not worry about him. Here is my sentinal.” He placed her hand on the smooth bark and it warmed beneath her palm in greeting. “Be welcome in my sentinal, Scholar Taelia,” Birlerion said, and they shimmered into the tree.

  Taelia gasped and staggered as they appeared inside. She clung to Birlerion. “That was the weirdest sensation I’ve ever experienced. So weird, I can’t even describe it,” she said, peering around her. She stiffened in surprise. “I can see!” She spun around, her gaze darting around her, and Birlerion grinned, there wasn’t that much to see.

  “My sentinal is enhancing your sight. He can’t restore it, but whilst you’re inside, he can assist.”

  “Oh, my.” Taelia memorized his face and ran her fingers over the graze on Birlerion’s cheek that was already fading fast. She patted his face and looked around her. “It’s an honour to meet you, and I thank you for your care.” She smiled at Birlerion. “It is nice to be able to see what you look like.”

  Birlerion grinned. “If you like, next time, we’ll bring the Captain with us. I’m sure you’d rather see him. Please sit.” He hesitated as her face fell and then rattled on to give her time to recover. “As you know, we’ve been sheltering the temple since Leyandrii sundered the Bloodstone. I’ve always had an affinity with the temple. Leyandrii said she built it for me; a way to tempt me off the streets,” he said with a shy smile. He reached and offered her a glass of water that appeared in his hand. He took one for himself and sat opposite her, relaxing as the soothing embrace from his sentinal washed away his tension. Taelia’s eyes widened as she watched him visibly relax.

  “Is your sentinal doing something?”

  “He says I’m too tense, so he’s easing my worries away. Hopefully, yours have eased, too.”

  Taelia looked at him in sur
prise and then grinned as she nodded. “He’s rather useful, isn’t he?” She looked up into the swirling mist and thought about what Birlerion had been saying. “You said the Lady had to tempt you? I thought you’ve always been the Lady’s?”

  “Oh, yes, but I must have been about thirteen or fourteen when she completed the temple. I couldn’t resist its call. I used to visit often, I couldn’t stay away and Guerlaire caught me and enrolled me in the academy.”

  “When you were fourteen?”

  “Yes. I had been sleeping in the oak tree in the temple gardens when, one night, the Father was attacked. I helped him escape and it gave me away. But anyway, that’s old history. You don’t want to know about me; you want to know about my tree.”

  “But you are the Sentinal, Birlerion. I am glad the Lady found you; you’ve been alone for too long. I can see why she would want you with her.”

  Birlerion smiled. “She treated us like family. We lived and worked in the palace. Though, I must admit, I usually have a good sense of direction, but when I first arrived at the palace, all I did was get lost. Niallerion used to think it was hilarious. I had to use a page boy as a guide.”

  “You speak of Niallerion often.”

  “He was a genius, always inventing stuff.” Birlerion’s smile slipped. “A good friend.”

  Taelia patted his arm.

  Birlerion looked up into the swirling mist. “Sentinals have their own personalities, linked to their guard, I suppose. Most can heal, certainly their own guard, and sometimes others. They link us to the Lady and the Land. Leyandrii and Marguerite.”

  “Marguerite is the Land?”

  “Yes, she bonded a few weeks before the end. The Land was ancient and weary. They never said but I think he was one of the creator's sons, as Leyandrii and Marguerite were the daughters. He couldn’t continue any longer; he was worn out. When Marguerite took over, she became one with our world, she became the land. She tried to alleviate some of the worst effects caused by the Ascendant’s magic. It was part of Leyandrii’s plan to protect this world as best they could.”

 

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