by Kyle J Cisco
“We are here for one reason—to defend the realm from the Darkness of the south. We have been doing it for ages, and we will continue until our last breaths. There is an attack coming—be sure of that, brothers and sisters. We do not know when, but it will come.”
Evon glanced around the room to gauge the expressions of the solemn men and women.
“We have rallied the banners and await their arrival but are not sure of the numbers we will be receiving. Peace breeds complacency, and we have been at peace for far too long. We will make do with what we have.”
Captain Deater stood at the table, his hand resting atop the oaken surface, looking out over the lands of the kingdoms that knew nothing of this threat yet. “What of the rest of the realms? Are we not to send riders to gather more support?”
“We will call for aid when the time arises to do so, captain. We are sending out a ranging party into the Shadow Pass to find out what they can about the enemy’s movements. The beacon station stands watch atop the pass and has reported nothing as of yet.”
“What if the attack does not come from the Shadow Pass this time, brother?” Deater moved past where the pass was and pointed to a small bay that led right to the south of the Fortress of Light. “What if the attack comes from here?”
Evon’s brow furrowed. “That could be possible. Thank you, captain. Have rangers go and check out the southwestern coast of the bay.”
Nodding his approval to Deater for his strategic thinking, Evon mused that perhaps his time of coordinating wars was almost at an end. His brow darkened when he remembered that the last time he had coordinated men like this was just before his betrayal. Not lingering on those painful memories of darker days as a lord of Krichen, he moved forward with the business at hand.
The meeting went on for hours as they discussed the necessary supplies and provisions the fortress required before they brought in the peasantry and shut the gates.
Beginning to feel the strain of command, Evon moved to the corner of the room to take a nip of the bitter from his flask. Feeling the smooth liquid run down his parched throat made him more relaxed. Seeing Laura approaching, he quickly stashed the bottle.
“Sister Laura, I am glad to see you in the war council room. How many battle sisters are currently ready for service in your group?”
“We have roughly two hundred sisters ready for battle, along with healing sisters as well.”
“Good to hear. We will need everyone we can get if we are to hold this fortress.”
“If I may ask, Steward Krich, why we are not planning on sallying forth to meet an enemy at the mouth of the pass where we could more easily defend the bottleneck there? Draw them into a kill-box. We can make our numbers double what they could bring upon us.”
“There are always ways around Shadow Pass, and I would rather outlast them here then go on one last suicidal charge,” Evon said, adding more venom to his words then he meant to, but the drink was calling to him and his stress levels didn’t help his patience any. “No, Sister Laura, I would not do that unless I had no other option.”
Laura looked at him for a moment in quiet contemplation as if she wanted either to say something more or punch him in the jaw. “As you wish.”
“I appreciate your input, but we cannot risk such an action against a foe we know nothing about. Perhaps once we learn more that could become an option.”
Jerking her head in a nod, Sister Laura stormed off back to her second-in-command; Evon did not yet know her name and supposed he would not have the time for introductions until after the meeting was concluded.
Before Evon was able to make his way to the table, he was approached by Deater. “Master Evon, I have notified the commander of both ranger groups that they are to set out as soon as they are prepared to go. I will also send a third team to report on the beacon team to make sure they have not been attacked.”
“Good thinking, captain. I am impressed with your knowledge of tactics. You have quite the strategic mind.” Evon rested a hand upon the young man’s shoulder. “Would you be my second-in-command while I steward the fortress? I could use another quick-thinker to help make these important decisions. What say you?”
“I would be honored, Master Krich. You have my sword, and I shall be your personal bodyguard till this is over. We just can’t afford to lose another high-ranking officer in the Order.”
“Agreed. If only we knew High Executor Rex’s status. I would feel much better knowing he’s safe.”
Evon fiddled with the ring of initiation on his finger as he thought of the possibility of having to lead the Order permanently. The thought made him sick for he had not considered commanding such a force since his unexpected arrival at the Order.
With the plans for defense being made by the top captains of the Order, Evon took his leave. Over the past few days his nerves had been shot. The responsibility of leading the Order was taking its toll on the older man.
Upon arriving in his quarters, he stood for a moment in front of the mirror looking at a face that seemed older than it had just a few days before. The grey in his beard had thickened from the stress of command. Stroking his chin, he felt the coarse hair run through his fingers. Last week he was a simple weapons master equipping the men of the Order with the skills needed to keep them alive. Now they were going to need all of those skills in the battles to come.
“Darkness is moving. I can feel it. Mother of Light, we need your grace if we are to stand alone against this evil that has been loosed onto the world once again.”
Staring at the man he saw in the mirror, he knew there would be no reply but hoped his prayer had been heard. He lay on his cot in his quarters, sleep eluding him. Too many thoughts swarmed his mind. He wondered how the Executor ever got sleep in his position.
A brilliant light shone through the window, illuminating the darkened room. Looking up to see what had made such magnificent brightness appear, Evon could not believe his eyes. There before him stood the shade of the High Executor.
“It can’t be,” Evon said, approaching the figure that had formed in the light breaking into the room.
“It is, my son. Evon, you are about to face challenges even those who lead the Order before in times of war have not faced. You, along with Virgil, will stand upon the precipice looking over a Darkness that has not been seen since the times of Dvorak.”
Evon swallowed hard. “What can I do, Executor? I’m just a weapons master. My days of command have long since gone.”
“You have been bred for this, Evon. Before your time in the Order, you were a general in the Kingdom of Krichen. Have those days been so lost from your mind?”
“No, master, not lost but intentionally forgotten.”
“Forgetting is not what needs to be done. You need to come to terms with what happened with your brother. The Order needs you at your best, Evon. You alone hold the strength needed to ensure the survival of our Order.”
And as quickly as the form had appeared in his room, it was gone, and the room was once again only dimly lit by the high afternoon sun peeking in through the drawn shades.
Now Evon knew sleep was a lost cause, so he headed back to the war council room. Making haste, he arrived there in just under three minutes.
Pushing the great wooden doors open, they hit the walls and slammed closed. “Let’s get to work. We are going to need sufficient archers on the walls at all moments of the day. So we need to make sure the rotation allows for full coverage of the fortress.”
“Evon, do we need archers on the sides of the wall that border our own lands?”
“We will plan for every contingency. I want them fully manned at all times. The time for questions is past. Everything I say now is an order, and I will have it all done.”
“Yes, Master Evon.”
For the forces of the Order to man the defenses until the levies arrived would require long shifts for the time being. But Evon never believed in taking unnecessary risks, not when he was a general in his younger
days and certainly not now. You let your rear guard down for just a second and a knife gets plowed into your back.
Making preparations went quickly. After all was set, he brought Captain Deater and Sister Laura to his personal office in the High Executor’s suite of the Fortress.
“I have brought both of you here because of your position within the Order. Captain Deater has already accepted my request to have him as my aid during these trying times to come. Now I ask you, Sister Laura, would you join my trusted counsel in these trying times? I very much value the input and insight you have to offer.”
“It is my honor, sir. As long as this Order stands, I shall serve our Mother of Light.”
“Good. And, Deater, did the three ranging parties set out for their destinations yet?”
“Yes, sir, they did. I saw them off personally. Have we heard back from the rangers you sent to the camp where High Chaplain Rex’s team was last known to be?”
“No, we have yet to hear anything from Rex’s team or the rangers sent out to find them.”
Evon’s voice sounded calm but his mind raced with worry. He did his best to block the negative feelings out and retain a sense of control in front of his council.
“Sir, are you okay? You look concerned. Is it for the High Chaplain Rex’s team? You did say he is one of the most powerful chaplains in recent years, did you not?”
“Power means little if you are overwhelmed by an enemy of far superior numbers that has the jump on you.”
Right after he said the words, he knew they did not give comfort, but perhaps it was best Laura and Deater knew that they were in fact on their own when the Dark forces returned.
“Let’s all just pray to the Mother of Light for their safe return. Perhaps she might hear us all and bring them back in one piece.”
Deater stepped forward, hesitating like he wanted to say something.
“It’s all right, captain, please speak your mind here. We are not in a formal setting. I would hear your thoughts aloud,” Evon said.
“Very well, sir. I just have an odd feeling about the signal beacon, sir. I feel as though we missed something there. Hence why I sent a team, but all is not right. I can sense it.”
“Then you shall join up with them. Set out to catch up with those rangers. Likely they’ve made camp for the night by now, as they know not to climb that ridge-line on Shadow Mountains by night.”
Deater paused. “Are you sure, sir? What if I am wrong and while I am gone something happens? Then my journey would be for naught.”
“It is better to know for sure then leave us guessing about whether the beacon will work, captain. I am ordering you to report to the ranger unit looking into the beacon and take command there.”
“Yes, sir. I will gather my men and travel there in all haste.”
“I know you will, captain. But I am going to need your men here. They are our most experienced unit. You must lead the rangers on your own. Good luck.”
Deater nodded and headed out of the office.
Evon turned to Laura who was sitting in the chair in front of the Executor’s desk. She stared into the flame of the candle sitting nearby. Evon wondered how a women of such beauty could be smuggled away to a part of the Order that placed her in a staggering amount of danger on the field.
Sisters of Battle were the second line of defense against the Dark magic, right behind the ranks of the chaplains, and part of the backbone of the Covenant of Man’s army. Things had changed now that there were but two chaplains left in the Order. Aside from the battle sisters, Virgil and Rex were all that was left of the religious military Order. Without them, who would be left to fight back against the coming darkness?
“What troubles you, Evon?”
“It is nothing, sister. I just haven’t been in command in a while, and that experience left some scars. I am doing my best to cope with the memories but sometimes they weigh on me.”
Evon once again inspected the floor, trying not to show weakness over old wounds, but remembering the Executor’s words, Evon divulged more of his story.
“I was once heir to the throne of Krichen and general of her armies. During my last campaign, my younger brother betrayed me, putting a knife in my back and leaving me for dead on the battlefield. I lay there dying for two days, holding onto life through the intense hate I felt for the little shit, wanting nothing more than to kill him.”
Laura grimaced, her eyes wide with surprise.
Evon wondered if he’d said too much, but after a moment of deliberation he decided to continue.
“After those two days, I was found by one of the Sisters of the Order. She knew who I was and took me here for safekeeping.”
Laura patted his hand.
“I can see the sympathy welling up in you, sister, and let me stop you there. That is not why I told you all this. I just needed you to understand why I am asking for your and Captain Deater’s help leading these people.”
“Yes, Evon, I was only going to say that it does in fact take a strong person to come through that harboring no more ill will for your brother.”
“I didn’t say I harbor no ill will. In fact, if I do ever see that bastard again, I will plant my sword in his chest. Watch him bleed out and suffer as I did. The sting of betrayal hurts worse than any wound in the field. You’d do good to remember that because you never know when there could be a knife at your back. Now I suggest we both get some sleep before the sun comes up. We have lots of preparations to make, and we may start seeing some levies coming in tomorrow from the closer vassals.”
“Yes, Master Evon. If you need to talk again, I am here. Don’t let the demons of the past turn you from your path of Light. You have come too far to hold on to bitterness.”
Not waiting for a reply, Laura made her way out of the office and down the corridor toward the sanctum of the battle sisters.
Evon stood there in silence, thinking about the journey he had made to get to where he was now.
She was right that I have come far from where I was, he thought, but the hate is still very much real. And with that, he headed back to his quarters for some needed rest.
13
The morning sun shone through the window of Evon’s quarters, chasing out the shadows in the room. As he creaked to his feet, Evon’s joints shrieked in protest. A horn blared, and Evon, ignoring his aches and pains, hastened to his wardrobe, grabbed his armor, and strapped it on.
Moments later, he headed straight for the main gate to see the guard on watch. He was about to sound the horn again. “Belay that, guard. I am here. Who or what is coming?”
“Stew—Steward Krich, I was not expecting—”
“Shut up and tell me who it is that approaches.”
“Sir, they are too far still to tell, but it’s a large host of warriors coming from the north.”
“Good. Wait till their banners are able to be distinguished and let me know immediately who it is. Send a runner to the office of the Executor.”
“Yes, steward.”
The young man looked scared. Evon placed a hand on his shoulder before making his way to the office where he hoped he would find Laura. His pace quickened as he headed down the main hallway, glancing as he always did at the portraits of the men who had led the Order before him. Although it is customary to hide the face of an Executor after they are sworn into the post, the Order always had a painting made of them as they were before taking the Mask of Dvorak. Pushing the doors open, he did find Sister Laura already there, sitting to the right of the Executor’s chair, waiting for him.
“Sister Laura, good morning. Hope you were able to get sufficient rest for the day we are about to have?”
“Sure, you can say that, Evon. Not that we had much time before the horn started to sound.”
“Well, you are right about that, but this is good news for those manning the walls.”
Laura nodded in agreement as the doors swung open once more. It was a younger man then the guard manning the gate.
> “Speak, boy, what news do you bring from the gate?”
“It is the host of House Castelliano. They are currently awaiting your approval to enter the fortress with their men.”
“Yes, yes, of course. Tell Lord Castelliano to come here as soon as his men are settled in the eastern courtyard.”
“Yes, steward.”
The boy bowed in the customary manner of the Order, but before he was able to finish, Evon shooed him away. If there was one person in the Order that did not subscribe to the proper customs and courtesies, it was Evon Krich. Before the lord of House Castelliano came, he took a quick emptying gulp of his flask and threw it back in the desk drawer where he had an entire bottle of bitter stashed for the days to come.
Laura shot him a look that Evon ignored. Clearing his throat, he asked, “What do you know of House Castelliano?”
“Not all that much. Only that they are one of the oldest vassals of the Order, founded by Dvorak himself once the lands were claimed by the Light once more.”
“Good. That’s a hell of a lot more then I know about them so I made a good choice in including you,” he said, flashing an awkward smile. “Well, let’s hope he made good on what the ledger says was promised in times of war. Shit, did you grab the ledger?”
A large book sat in her lap, already opened to the page of House Castelliono.
“How many troops has he promised?”
“The ledger indicates he’s pledged five hundred professional soldiers along with an additional six thousand levies. No cavalry forces but a considerable number of archers are noted.”
