The Jake Thomas Trilogy: Book 02 - Sword of Light

by Steven A. Tolle

  “From some of your insults, I would not have believed that you thought so highly of him.” Hailyn said.

  “Oh that.” Kelsan said with a chuckle. “Do not trouble yourself, Sister. Hersel and I are old friends. I cannot just give him what he wants; he has to earn it. The insults are our way of settling who wins. I will have your food brought up.” He said as he closed the door.

  “What do you think will happen when we get to the capital?” Jake asked as he sat down on his bed. “It is going to be difficult to do what we need to do if we have an escort with us all the time.”

  “Jonas told me that his letter explains that we are looking for information that can benefit all clerics and he will share it with Brother Kal, the Chief Cleric of Beragan, if we are successful.” Hailyn said quietly. “He has requested that Kal find a way for us to travel without military escort, to ensure that the clerics will maintain control of the information. We will have to see if the Chief Cleric has the power or influence to do this.”

  “If he can’t?” Jake asked.

  “We will have to work with what we given.” Hailyn stated. “Jonas believes that Kal has more influence with the queen than is generally known. We have to hope that is the case.”

  A knock on the door interrupted the conversation. Jake opened the door to reveal a serving girl on the other side, bringing them a tray of food and water. Setting the tray down on a bed, she told them that she would return to retrieve the empty plates. She closed the door on the way out.

  After Jake and Hailyn finished eating and the girl returned to take away the tray, Hailyn said. “We should get some sleep since we will be rising before the dawn.” She closed the small curtain over the window and leaned over and blew out the lantern, plunging the room into darkness.

  Jake could hear the rustling of clothing as Hailyn removed her robes and climbed into her bed. He flushed at the thought of her undressing. He quickly striped down to his pants and shirt and slipped into his bed. He shifted onto his side, facing Hailyn. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness and, with a sliver of light making its way past the curtain, he could make out Hailyn’s eyes looking over towards him.

  “Good night, Jake.” She said softly.

  “Good night, Hailyn.” He replied.

  He watched as her eyes closed, just making out a slight smile on her face. Jake gazed at her for while, watching her drift off into sleep, then turned over. He felt a little odd and unsure of himself, being this close to her as they slept. He wrestled with those feelings until sleep finally took him.

  …

  As Hersel had promised, they approached the city of Dunanty in the late afternoon of the third day. After leaving Kelsan’s inn before dawn, they had ridden all day, arriving at another village and inn near dark, staying there, and then continued on the next morning.

  The weather had turned less pleasant the second night, with a strong, cold wind blowing from the north. Gray clouds had gathered overhead, occasionally sprinkling them with drops of rain. Jake was now grateful for all of the layers he was wearing.

  In the hazy light, with the sun hidden by the clouds, the city seemed to rise out of the plains like a solitary hill. It had rough stone walls, unlike the smooth walls of Sanduas, which surrounded the city in a circle. As they got closer, Jake could make out the defensive cutouts along top of the wall. There was a flow of travelers entering and leaving through the main gates. The heavy metal-banded wooden gate doors were swung open, the entrance manned by several soldiers, who were watching the people coming and going.

  Hersel rode confidently through the gates, the guards saluting him as he passed. The horses’ hooves seemed to ring as they transitioned from the dirt road to the paved streets of the city. Once inside the walls, Jake saw that the buildings in the city were mostly made of wood, with some stone buildings randomly interspersed. Jake noticed the curious looks that the people on the streets gave them as they rode past. They continued on towards the squat castle that was built on a small hill in the city’s center.

  The castle was built entirely of stone, with the same rough-cut features of the main walls. Jake saw soldiers patrolling along the walls. Large metal braziers topped the main gate, with several soldiers on horseback, as well as on foot, standing guard. Long green banners hung on either side of the gates.

  Hersel rode up to a soldier sitting on a horse with a single golden slash painted across his armor and saluted. The man sat stiffly in the saddle, his face neutral, hand resting on his sword, watching the other soldiers. His armor was spotless and his dark hair and mustache neatly trimmed. The man radiated an air of self-importance. “Greetings, Captain.” Hersel said politely. “Is Chief Cleric Kal in the castle?”

  The officer lazily returned the salute. “Kal is at the Temple.” He said as he took in Jake and Hailyn sitting behind Hersel. “What business do you have?”

  “These two clerics bring a message for the Chief Cleric from the Chief Cleric of Sanduas.” Hersel replied as he gestured behind him.

  “What are your names, clerics?” The officer demanded. “Your visit will need to be reported to the queen.”

  “I am Hailyn and this is Taric, Captain.” Hailyn said smoothly. “May the blessings of the One be on you and your queen.”

  “Thank you, Sister.” The officer replied, though he did not sound appreciative. He motioned to Hersel. “Escort them to the Temple, Sergeant.”

  Hersel saluted, then turned his horse away from the gate. They rode through the city for a while, passing shops, inns and taverns, finally arriving at a large wooden building. The building was located in a park-like setting, with green grass and tall pine trees surrounding the building. The edge of the street curved towards the building to make a large paved area along the side near the street. The building itself was long and wide, standing around two stories tall, made from large logs. A set of large wooden doors stood as the entrance near the rear of the building.

  Jake saw men and women moving about the grounds in dark green robes, who pointed and whispered together when they noticed him and Hailyn. He also saw a few in dark green pants and brown boots, wearing armor and a sword, with a green hood lying against their backs. He looked over to Hailyn, who shrugged.

  “Sergeant Hersel, we are new here.” She said politely. “Who are the men and women in armor? Do the clerics have their own guards?”

  “Those are the fighting clerics, Sister.” He replied. “They are trained in combat and often travel alone to remote villages, bringing the Word and engaging the demons and their followers.”

  They stopped near the main doors and dismounted. Hersel beckoned a cleric over. The woman looked to be in her early thirties, short and slight, with her long brown hair hanging loose. She had a curious look on her plain face as she stared at Jake and Hailyn.

  “Sister, these are clerics from Sanduas bearing a message to Chief Cleric Kal.” Hersel explained. “May I leave them in your care?”

  “Of course, Sergeant.” She replied. “I will escort them to Brother Kal.”

  “Thank you, Sister.” He said. He turned to Hailyn and Jake. “I hope that you found my escort adequate.”

  “You have treated us very well.” Hailyn stated. “We appreciate all of your help. May the blessings of the One be with you.”

  Hersel nodded, then swung up into his saddle. “I hope your return journey is as pleasant.” He responded. He motioned for Mescal to follow and they rode back into the city.

  “I am Elsia.” The female cleric told them.

  “I’m Taric.” Jake said, remembering his cover.

  “I’m Hailyn.” Hailyn echoed.

  “Greetings, Brother. Sister.” Elsia said. She turned to head inside the doors. “Please follow me.”

  When they entered the Temple, Jake noticed a strong pine scent in the air. They made their way down the aisle that ran between the carved wooden benches that faced towards the altar. Along the log walls were iron rungs for torches and cut pine branches, hanging in decoration. There
was a large single candle burning on the stone altar. Several clerics were sitting in the benches, eyes closed in silent contemplation.

  Elsia led them to a set of doors set off to the side of the altar. She knocked and waited. A male voice came through. “Enter.”

  Elsia opened the door and motioned them through. Jake and Hailyn stepped into a large room, with shelves lined with scrolls built into the walls. There was an ornately carved wooden desk set near the back wall. Behind that desk sat a large man, dressed in dark green robes with a golden edge on his cowl. He was plump and bald, with a long graying beard and bushy eyebrows. Beneath the eyebrows, his dark eyes were sharp and intelligent. He looked quizzically over at Elsia.

  “Brother Kal, this is Sister Hailyn and Brother Taric from Sanduas.” She explained. “They bring a message from the Chief Cleric of Sanduas.”

  “Thank you, Elsia.” Kal replied. “Please have some drinks brought to us.” Elsia nodded and left.

  “What does Jonas want from me?” Kal said with a smile. “He and I met at the border long ago and I know that he is a capable leader. He is unlikely to send his clerics this far simply to exchange pleasantries.”

  “Here is his letter, Brother Kal.” Hailyn said as she pulled the letter out of her belt pouch. “It should make clear Brother Jonas’ intentions.”

  Kal took the letter, looking it over, then breaking the seal and reading. He was still reading when Elsia returned with a tray with a pitcher of water and cups. She poured Jake and Hailyn a cup while they waited.

  When Kal finished reading, he sat there musing for a few moments. He looked over at Elsia. “Thank you, Sister.” He said. “Please see that we are not disturbed.” Elsia nodded and left, closing the door behind her.

  “What do you know of this information?” Kal asked quietly.

  “Not much, Brother.” Hailyn said. “We only have a few clues to go on.” She gestured to Jake.

  “We have these.” Jake said as he produced the parchment with the runes that Tomaris had given him. He handed it to Kal.

  Kal studied the runes, eyebrows drawing together in concentration. He sat there for several minutes before he spoke again.

  “This is an ancient language from the west, beyond the Crescent Hills.” He finally said. “I cannot say what they mean. The key to interpret them is not here in the capital. The only place I know that such a key exists is at Kersant.”

  “Where is that, Brother?” Hailyn asked.

  “It is a small city west of the Crescent Hills.” Kal responded. “It has a library that houses many ancient documents.”

  “The Crescent Hills?” Jake asked.

  “It is a range of hills, too small to be considered mountains, that extend south from the Northern Wastes, then curve west towards the Inland Sea.” Kal stated. “They are a five day journey to the west.”

  “Is there a way for us to get there?” Hailyn asked.

  “I may be able to get you out of the city.” Kal replied after a moment. “However, there is a problem. By the order of the queen, all of the clerics outside of the city are required to send regular reports to me. In the case of Kersant, we have not had any reports from the Temple in weeks. Something we don’t understand has happened there.”

  …

  Far to the west, Bruce Talia walked through the stone hallway to his Master’s throne room. He had his hood up and his black cloak pulled tight. He glanced contemptuously at the Imps and half-men who passed by, forced to make way for him as he walked straight down the middle of the hallway. He saw the hatred, as well as the fear, in their eyes. They knew what he could do.

  He had spent the day recovering from the sea voyage at an inn in the city, getting his stomach settled before he came to the fortress. The rest had helped, the sensation of still being on the water having faded. He had taken his time coming, feeling no hurry.

  As he walked, he could not help but remember the first time he had been brought to his Master. He had been terrified, surrounded by Imps and their followers, still new to this world, unsure of what was happening. They had dragged him here, ignoring his pleas and cries. He had been thrown down in front of his Master, his muscles refusing to work when he was told to stand. He had huddled there until he was lifted from the floor, facing his new Master for the first time. That had been the start of his journey to where he was today.

  Shaking his head, he approached the large carved wooden doors that led to the throne room. The doors were inlaid with gold and decorated with precious stones. He was surprised that his Master felt the need to bring some beauty into this place. He motioned to the guards manning the doors and they hurriedly pulled them open.

  He entered the throne room, taking notice of the other demons that were standing in the room, waiting for direction. The throne room was large, stretching at least one hundred feet wide and deep, with the stone ceiling that was at least fifty feet high. The walls were made of tightly packed dark grey stones, uniform in size and smoothly carved. Several chandeliers of candles hanging from the ceiling, as well as braziers lining the walls, lit the room. The tall stone throne was slightly offset, near the back wall. Next to the throne were two naturally occurring stones, with a large gap between them. In this gap, Bruce saw that now-familiar swirling pit of darkness, framed by red fire. It was the portal that allowed the demons into this world.

  His Master was standing next to his throne when Bruce entered. Bruce was still aware of how much his Master was unlike the other demons. Bruce approached him, kneeling when he came within a few feet.

  “I have returned, Master.” He said. He felt a trickle of sweat work its way down his back as the demon lord studied him in silence.

  “What have you seen?” The demon finally asked.

  “Creatos is dead, destroyed by Jake Thomas and his cleric friends.” Bruce replied.

  “Creatos had always considered himself greater than he was.” The demon replied with a slight smile. “Tell me all that happened.”

  Bruce explained what he had witnessed in Creatos’ fortress, including the final battle. “Jake held his own against Creatos throughout the battle. He showed great power, but it was that final release of power that nearly destroyed Creatos. He was struggling to recover, but was finished off by the cleric with the staff.” Bruce finished. “He is the most powerful cleric that I have ever seen. He withstood the power of numerous Imps by himself.”

  “I have had reports of this cleric from Sanduas.” His Master said. “I once thought he may be my old enemy in disguise, but no longer believe that.” He sat down on his throne. “It is time that something is done about him.”

  “I will go, Master.” Bruce said quickly. “I am sure I can get close enough to kill him.”

  “No.” The demon lord replied. “I doubt even you have the power to overcome him.”

  Bruce gritted his teeth in frustration. He had demonstrated his power more than once against those demons that questioned his abilities. He glared up at his Master.

  “Do you wish to try yourself against me again, my reluctant pupil?” The demon lord laughed, joined in by the other demons in the room. “If you try, I will not be as gentle as I was the last time.”

  Bruce shuddered slightly, recalling the painful lesson that his Master had taught him. He swallowed his pride, pushing down his anger. “No, Master.” He said tightly. He repeated the line he had been taught. “I live to serve you.”

  “Good, for I have other plans for you.” The demon lord stated. “I want you to go to where the sword is being held. I think it is time for it to move again. You will find an innocent along the way to carry the sword and bring it back here. I want it back under my protection.”

  “Yes, Master.” Bruce replied quickly. “But if I may ask, what about the cleric?”

  “Do not worry yourself about him.” The demon lord declared. “The cleric’s death is already moving towards him.” He gestured towards the door. “You may leave us.”

  Bruce rose, bowing to his Master, and turn
ed to leave. He saw the other demons smirking at him as he walked away. Fists clenched, he tried to keep his anger in check as he moved to the door. He hated being laughed at.

  “Bruce.” His Master’s voice carried softly behind him. He stopped and looked back. “None of my brothers or our followers are to be harmed. If I find out that you have disobeyed me in this, you will feel my wrath.”

  “As you wish.” Bruce replied tightly, turning and leaving the throne room. One day, I will make all of you pay. He thought to himself as he stormed out of the fortress.

  Chapter Twelve

  Combined with the heat from the sun beating down, the dust, dung smell and the constant clanging of the cowbells from the seemingly endless herd began to wear on Jake. He was standing next to Dontas, his right hand on the saddle pommel, his left hand grasping his swordhilt, squeezing it in frustration. All he could see was a brown and black line of cattle, moving slowing along the opposite road, with the cattle drivers spread out and riding up and down the line, shouting and cracking whips to maintain order.

  They were halted at a crossroads, a two-days ride west of Dunanty, standing in a crowd of travelers waiting as well. Wilham had told them that they might run into the herders driving their cattle south to rich grazing lands to prepare for the approaching autumn. Jake glanced under Dontas’ neck towards him.

  Wilham was slim man in his early thirties, about Jake’s height, with light brown hair and dark eyes. His face was plain, with a serious look that befitted his calling. He had a slim scar that ran across his right cheek, leaving an empty furrow in his short beard, pale against his tan face. He was dressed in the armor and green hood of a warrior cleric.

  He was speaking quietly with several people, Hailyn standing next to him. A steady stream of other travelers seeking healing or a cleric’s advice had approached them while they waited. At least they have something to do. Jake thought, bored.

  They had waited in Dunanty for two days before Brother Kal had been able to arraign for permission for them to leave. Jake and Hailyn had been invited to dine with him both nights, Jake letting Hailyn engage him in conversation, fearing that he would give away that he was not really a cleric. Kal had taken his relative silence with good grace, glancing at him from time to time, but not saying anything.