Fogle Eric - Forge of the Gods 01 - The Last Knight (V1.0)

by 5kops

  "I'm sorry for embarrassing myself in front of you, Lord Hawkwind," Areck said, trying to calm his breath. "I ... I was not expecting such dire news. May Starsgalt protect the king's soul."

  Duke Hawkwind guided Areck onto his back and instructed him to ex­tend his arms parallel to the body. He gave orders for Arawnn to alert Lord Caldey that the squire had become ill and would need some mint tea. When the messenger left the room, the duke whispered, "I bet you are wondering why I have kept you here, lad. It is because you have a part to play in all this. You are the only one I can fully trust to be expedient, formal, and honor-bound to keep this information to himself."

  Realization struck Areck. It was almost as if God was leading him down a chosen path of virtue. Looking up at Duke Hawkwind, Areck nodded with determination.

  "Good, Squire, I am glad you understand," the duke said. "Once you have received some tea, you must personally take word to the High Light-bringer and deliver a sealed parchment that I have yet to write. It is very important we act with haste; all of us may be in jeopardy. Do you under­stand?"

  Again Areck nodded.

  "If you are recovered enough to stand, I will begin lettering a writ to by­pass anyone outside of the High Lightbringer," Lord Hawkwind said. "You are my word now, Squire Areck, and your service to the crown shall not go unnoticed."

  "Thank you for your concern, my lord," Areck said, trying to sound im­proved. "My nerves are already feeling much better. I will wait here while you prepare the documents."

  The duke stood and sat in a gilded chair at his desk, moving several dark markers around a large map. Without looking down the man took a piece of parchment, pulled out his quill, and began writing in a noble's hand.

  As Areck watched the duke's pen making strong swift marks, he began to think of the implications. Duke Hawkwind had kept him around for pre­cisely this reason: to act as an open conduit to the High Lightbringer. By protocol, a squire should never carry important information to a high rank­ing official. Areck cringed with the realization that his carrying the message to the Bre'Dmorian Academy would be an insulting gesture to a man of Lord Lightbringer's station.

  Areck tried to calm his mind. This was different; he would carry news that would shake the very foundation of Arsgoth. In his opinion, the duke was correct in thinking that only a Bre'Dmorian could transport such in­formation safely.

  Areck could only hope that Lord Lightbringer would not question him—he was already nervous in the presence of God's Chosen Voice— such dire news would only make his emotions worse.

  A rustle drew Areck's thoughts back to the duke and his preparations. Lord Hawkwind was rolling four separate pieces of parchment and stamp­ing them each with his personal seal—a hawk with a rose in each claw.

  "You feel better, Squire?" Duke Hawkwind asked with distracted con­cern.

  "Yes, your grace. I thank you for your concern in my moment of weak­ness," Areck replied, ashamed of showing such emotion in front of the no­ble.

  "Not to worry, young man. The news is unsettling to me as well. It is good to see that the young men of the Academy care so much for their realm. I know when it is your time to serve in batde, you will honorably defend the kingdom."

  Duke Hawkwind looked down and considered the pieces of parchment. "Now that the wax has cooled, you must take these two writs. This," he raised the first scroll stamped with the royal seal, "is a royal writ of passage. It will allow you to travel freely in the city and will expire after tonight."

  The noble lord raised a second parchment, this one with a blue ribbon attached. "This is to be given to the High Lightbringer. No one else is to see this parchment. It is not to be opened by anyone else, upon penalty of treason. Do you understand, Squire Areck?"

  Areck nodded and the duke handed both scrolls to the young squire who took them gingerly.

  'You have my honor-bound oath, my lord. I will seek Lord Lightbringer within the hour, and unless someone pries my dead fingers from these," Areck held the parchments up, studying the wax seals, "no one else will lay eyes upon them."

  With that, Areck stepped a foot back and knelt before the duke. In knightly custom, he waited five seconds in the posture of fealty before he stood and walked out of the room.

  Areck didn't notice the duke's chuckle. Nor did he notice that as he left the room, Lord Hawkwind sat back down in his chair and began inking several black dots on his map near the Dragonspine Mountains.

  As Areck wandered out of the palace, he pondered the importance of accepting the duke's task. He remembered reading of such political strife happening in the smaller kingdoms to the east—with no heir to the throne, the nobles of the realm would jockey for positioning. This always led to unholy alliances, back-stabbing, and civil war, until one became strong enough to rule the country. Duke Hawkwind was obviously trying to avoid such violent controversy and dissuade the tragic influx of scheming.

  When Areck finally reached the stables, the duke's captain of the guard was giving a small regiment of men specific orders for their nighdy routine. Next to the guard captain stood Arawnn and a young stable hand intently waiting for the captain to finish. It was obvious from the captain's stiff posture and clipped speech that the man was not accustomed to so much at­tention during this part of his day.

  Lord Caldey appeared and handed the captain and Arawnn each a pair of sealed documents, whispered a few instructions in the courier's ear, and walked back inside the palace.

  Areck clenched his jaw. Just by looking at the signs, he could tell the guard captain was hoping the incursion would wander elsewhere and let him go about his usual business. Areck considered leaving them to discuss matters; however, when he looked at the sky, he recognized that without some aid there would be no time to report to Lord Silvershield before sun­down.

  Deciding a direct approach was best, Areck strolled over to the captain and held out Duke Hawkwind's writ. The captain frowned, took the docu­ment, and began to read.

  After a moment the captain nodded thoughtfully and turned back to re­gard Arawnn. Once the guard captain finished evaluating the situation, he called over a stable boy and began to discuss stallions bred for speed, asking what stock the duke had available.

  The pair eventually setded on a mount suited for great speed and known for its endurance before turning back to both Areck and Arawnn.

  "I will have Frostalf saddled up and ready," the guard captain stated, nodding at Arawnn. "With so far to travel, I am giving you Duke Hawk-wind's fastest thoroughbred. If you can wait just a moment, I will make sure your mount is ready for your travels."

  "My thanks, Captain, but I will not need the stallion tonight," Arawnn said, inclining his head in a slight bow to the captain. "However, if, on the morrow, Frostalf can be taken to the Citadel of the Hand with enough pro­visions for a week's travel, I would appreciate it."

  "It shall be as you request, my lord." The captain saluted the royal cou­rier. "Your mount will be stocked, delivered, and ready to ride by then."

  "May Starsgalt shine on you, Captain," Arawnn extended his hand in the customary Almassian salute and turned around. Had the courier not been so nimble, he would have run into Areck.

  "Squire!" Arawnn exclaimed, trying to catch his balance. "Are you ready?"

  Areck looked at the royal courier but did not respond. Instead he glared at the captain, annoyed that the man had all but ignored him.

  "My lord, how I can assist you this afternoon?" the captain said, tensing under Areck's gaze. "I ... I do not suppose you also wish to discuss fine thoroughbreds?"

  Despite his anger, Areck smiled at the joke. "You have seen my orders, Captain, and I am not here to procure a mount. It is time for me to report to Lord Silvcrshicld, first knight-captain of the eastern gatehouse. However, events have unfolded that will take me to another part of the city. I wonder if you can spare a man to tell Lord Silvershield that I will not be able to make it back to my post."

  The captain relaxed and looked around in a
conspiratorial way. "Events vital enough for the duke to offer up his personal stock of horse and for a squire to ask the assistance of a man-at-arms must be important indeed."

  "Sir, even if there were events going on, I would not betray Duke Hawkwind with idle conversation," Areck replied stiffly.

  The starded captain gaped at the squire and stammered a reply. "My lord, I did not mean to imply that I should be so lucky as to be informed of important business. I will have a man sent this instant. Is there anything else I should relay?"

  Areck's face flushed. He had not meant to sound harsh, but the man had asked for him to betray private information. His nerves were raw and he had not comprehended that the captain had spoken in jest.

  "Thank you, Captain," Areck said, "but no. I just want you to inform my commander that I shall not be back to the gatehouse this day."

  The captain saluted the squire and barked quick orders to the closest man-at-arms. When he looked satisfied that his man understood the in­structions, he turned back towards Areck. "Squire, is there anything else you require?"

  Areck shook his head and lowered his gaze. Rather than offering his hand and offending the man further, Areck thanked him and strode off towards the stables. He noticed after a moment that Arawnn was walking next to him. He stopped and regarded the royal courier, his brows drawn with wonderment.

  "My orders state that I am to escort you to the Academy of the Hand," Arawnn explained emphatically.

  Areck relaxed. "Lord Arawnn, the duke never mentioned your assis­tance, but I would gladly accept your company towards the Academy. I apologize for not recognizing your role while we conducted our business."

  "That is unimportant, my friend. However, I do have a request. I know it is not necessarily your way, but I prefer my unofficial title rather than so much formality," Arawnn said.

  Areck frowned at the comment—he was not used to breaking such pro­tocol—but with a shrug turned and made his way toward another stable hand. He politely asked for the boy to retrieve his mount. In other circum­stances, he would have just left the horse; however, the Bre'Dmorian Acad­emy's stable master was an old man of a dour nature who would not be pleased if the young squire did not bring the stallion back to its rightful home, even if only for a night.

  When the pair reached the proper stable, a young man brought Areck's dark stallion outside, followed by Arawnn's lighter thoroughbred. Areck noticed that the courier's horse had already been stripped of gear and given a lighter riding saddle.

  "I see the captain moves with ample speed," Arawnn said, a touch of surprise in his voice.

  "It looks that way," Areck smiled. "I think I might have smudged his honor though, by not catching on to his joke."

  "You don't say?" Arawnn chuckled. "I think it is a rule that every knight is quite dour, Areck." The comment made Areck blanch. He was about to respond when Arawnn continued, "However, regardless of your iron tongue, I still wish to take you up on the offer you made earlier. I have never seen such splendid city and wish to see what it has to offer, if you un­derstand my meaning."

  Areck flushed at Arawnn's words. The royal messenger referred to drinking and wenching, something Aresleigh was well known for in her days of glory. That it was something the Academy also looked down upon made him flinch. By the Anduinic Code's ethos, men were not allowed to marry until their tenth year of acceptance into the knighthood. Once mar­ried, a knight would be would expected to have children and carry upon their noble line. However, until that time, they were to save themselves for their future mate by staying away from drinking, a vile habit which inhibited decision-making and altered the senses.

  "From your look, you are about to say no! However, I believe you said that you would barter stories with me. And, if I can only barter when being shown around town, that is not my fault. Thus, would rejecting my offer not be a matter of honor, Squire?" Arawnn asked with a devilish grin.

  "But . . . I . . . I," Areck floundered. The royal messenger had made a good point, one that a knight could not argue. With a sigh, Areck regained his composure. "It is an honor to be taken up on my offer, sir. Once dusk has fallen, I shall be available to partake in such tasteless endeavors."

  Arawnn roared in laughter and slapped the young squire on the back. "We are going to have a wonderful time! In fact, this is already more fun than most noble parties back home."

  The royal courier was still laughing as he walked away. Areck let out an­other sigh and followed Arawnn, his stallion behind him.

  From the palace Areck saw both the Citadel of the Hand to the south­east and the Arcane Institute to the southwest. The entire noble district of Aresleigh was laid out in neat rows of lordly estates, temple districts, power­ful merchant families, and a central courtyard with wide marble streets. Each of these streets eventually ran into one of three magnificent buildings which dominated the inner city, coalesced into a main road, then exited through a gatehouse. For one who had never been to the inner city, it was a daunting sight that took months to get used to. However, once familiar with the general location of Hawkwind Palace, the Citadel of the Hand, and the Arcane Institute, it was easy to find a gatehouse and make one's way out.

  As the pair made their way through the marble streets of several more prominent merchant holdings, the sun sank into the horizon. The towering Dome of Anduin was awe-inspiring in the gathering dusk, affecting both men as they came into view of the Citadel of the Hand. The Citadel was something special; though Duke Hawkwind had spent a fortune in precious stones, abundant produce, and port tariffs to pay the dwarves of Ham-merstone Citadel to craft the inner city, nothing could compare to the pow­erful godly magic used upon the Bre'Dmorian Academy.

  Areck felt God's presence each time he neared the Citadel; he basked in the warmth of being a warrior of Starsgalt. He felt the great care and as­tuteness of the building, knowing that it had never been taken, never fallen into ruin, and represented the glory of Starsgalt. Trying to fully explain it was impossible; simply put it, was a monument of faith, law, and wisdom to the whole world.

  This was where the High Lightbringer, the Hand of God, Lord of the Bre'Dmorian knighthood, held his seat of power. Here the bulk of Stars-gait's holy warriors were concentrated, and here the One True God's pow­ers were centered. Although there was an Academy of the Hand in each of Arsgoth's other dukedoms—Lord Consulate Galryn, better known as the High Lord of the Knights of the Ring, resided in Thames, while the Lord Marshal Olrith, the High Lord of the Knights of the Crown, resided in Calimond—neither compared to the sheer size and grandeur of The Citadel in Aresleigh.

  With the capacity to hold over three thousand men, the Bre'Dmorian Academy contained many elder knights, scholars, and lightbringers when they were in the city. It also housed five hundred squires that sought to join the actual ranks of the knighthood. To gaze from the outside, common men could not see the inner parade grounds, the countless sparring areas, the great hall, the main cathedral, coundess barracks, or the several aca­demic centers for various subjects.

  It was here that Areck would serve a minimum of ten years in service to the Knights of Bre'Dmor. Though only fifty students were accepted on an annual basis per academy, the lengthy tenure was required by any student who studied in the service of Starsgalt. Upon graduation, thus receiving the basic title of knight, a young man usually set forth to explore the reposito­ries of the One God's knowledge and the rest of the world. It was not un­common for knights to become advisors to powerful noble families, or even priests singing the virtues of faith. However, no matter which path was chosen, a typical knight was driven by the burning desire to become a Lightbringer and spread the word of Starsgalt.

  Thus had Anduin of Ardoc, First High Lightbringer and the first Cham­pion of God, forged his code of ethos. As stated in the Tome of Anduin, the commandments were deemed the Anduinic Code: Honor thy God first, defend thy knighdy covenant second, and protect thy realm Arsgoth from chaos under all circumstances. Though much more complicated t
han those basic principles, the Code of Anduin had been a beacon of chivalry to the men serving the One God for over two thousand years. It stated that the Bre'Dmorians were beyond politics, beyond even kings and queens, and certainly beyond minor disputes of nobility. Finally, it stated that not only were they protectors to the world, but they were to be a shining beacon of purity and faith in God.

  As Areck approached the Citadel of the Hand, he noted the young squires standing diligendy on guard duty. He had been there several years before, standing duty with the rest of the sixth year squires, most ranging in age from seventeen to twenty-two winters.

  They look uncomfortable, he thought, alighting on his own odd memory. When his thoughts cleared, Areck recognized one of the squires standing guard as one who had continually come to him for guidance concerning the theology behind the Tome of Anduin, God's written word.

  "Kendall," Areck said and approached the young man, who tried to stare intently forward, "who is the officer on duty?"

  The young man's eyes darted around to be sure that no knights were present. "Sir, it is against the Code to talk while on duty!" he whispered. "However, I believe Lord Millbert is the ranking officer tonight."

  Areck couldn't help but remember his own nervousness when others had tried to talk to him during guard duty. He offered a quick arm clasp to Kendall and guided Arawnn inside a massive door.

  When the pair entered, they nearly ran into Lord Connor Millbert, a handsome crusader who was discussing the hierarchy of Bre'Dmor with several Templars. With a grunt of annoyance, the crusader ceased his con­versation and turned to the two young men.

  Areck knew he had interrupted his elder knight and cringed under Cru­sader Millbert's gaze. He had always respected the crusader, appreciating the man most for teaching him the art of sword technique and strategy. The elder knight had been his mentor during the annual dueling events, which Areck had won in four out of the last five years.

  As fierce as the elder knight could be, his symmetrical features held a hint of softness. In truth, the crusader was a kind man of middle years, with long black hair that was peppered with streaks of gray and tied at the nape of his neck. A carefully trimmed goatee framed a face that was marred by several scars gained in the service of God.