The Steel Queen (The Silk & Steel Saga Book 1)

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The Steel Queen (The Silk & Steel Saga Book 1) Page 46

by Karen Azinger


  While the others worked to free the reindeers of their packs, Kath followed the black knight up the stairs, keen to explore the pavilion. The hexagonal structure proved a strange building for a mountain wilderness. Made of wood, the pavilion had an ornate wooden lattice that ran around the six sides but otherwise the building had no solid walls. The tiled roof provided protection from snow and rain, but Kath couldn’t understand why anyone would build a structure without walls. To Kath’s eyes it didn’t seem very defensible; still, it would be far better than sleeping on the frozen ground.

  A large stone hearth dominated the center of the pavilion, a chimney poking up through the tiled roof. Kath discovered a tarp protecting a cache of dried firewood; at least they’d have plenty of wood and a place to cook. While the black knight kindled a fire, Kath explored the rest of the pavilion. Rounding the fireplace, she stopped and stared. A huge golden gong, some six feet across, hung suspended from the rafters. Engravings covered the golden disc, strange runes spiraling toward the center. She studied the etchings but the runes made no sense. Then her gaze spiraled to the heart of the gong. Her heartbeat quickened. Perhaps answers lurked near. Reaching out with a tentative hand, she traced the central engraving, half expecting to find herself in another place…or another time…but nothing happened. Kath remained fixed in the present, her fingertips touching the chilly metal of the golden gong. Lost in thought, she was startled by the sounds of the others bringing the packs up the steps. Turning, she called to Duncan. “I’ve found the gong. It’s covered in strange engravings. Come tell me if you recognize anything.”

  The archer crossed the pavilion with his typical lithe grace, more like a leather-clad panther than a man. She held her breath, watching his face as he studied the gong. For a moment, Kath thought she saw a flash of recognition in his eye but the moment was fleeting. Shaking his head, Duncan said, “The writing makes no sense…but there is something about the star.” Shrugging, he said, “It means nothing to me.”

  Disappointed, she reached out to caress the engravings. Etched in the center was the outline of a human hand with an open eye engraved in the palm. The seeing hand reached toward an eight-pointed star; the same star engraved in the broken tower where she’d discovered the crystal dagger. She’d hoped the sight would awaken memories in Duncan, memories of a distant past. Perhaps the monks held the answers she sought.

  Behind her, Duncan said, “You might as well sound the gong. The sooner we reach this monastery the sooner we’ll have some answers.”

  Kath hefted the striker, aiming a blow at the heart of the gong. Her blow struck true, waking the voice of the gong.

  BOOOOOOOMmmm.

  The deep-throated sound reverberated through the pavilion, punishing Kath’s ears. Her companions cringed. Metal plates on the hearth rattled and shook. The sound escaped through the open walls. Bouncing against the snowcapped mountaintops, the boom echoed back through the meadow.

  Booooommm. boooomm. boom.

  Her companions stood stunned. Cringing, Kath half expected a dragon to appear in answer to the summons.

  From across the pavilion, the black knight flashed Kath a grin. “If that doesn’t get their attention, nothing will.”

  The others laughed and then continued setting up camp in the pavilion.

  Kath stood frozen, staring at the gong. She had a lot of questions. She hoped the monks were good with answers.

  74

  Jordan

  By the light of the dying embers, Jordan read the scroll from Stewart. She’d found it hidden inside the fur-lined bedroll, his parting gift at the castle gates. The words of the scroll were etched in her heart but her eyes feasted on his handwriting. Wiping away a tear, Jordan burrowed into the luxurious fur of the snowcat lining. So soft and warm, the fur brought memories of another sort.

  The ordeal of the mountain pass haunted her mind. Without Sir Cardemir’s help she might have plummeted to the depths like her horse. She shuddered at the thought, forcing her mind to the adventure ahead. She stared at the rafters painted red by the glow of the embers. So strange to find a pavilion in the middle of the mountains, but it was better than being exposed to the bitter winds. She stared up at the red tiled roof, thinking about the monks and her Wayfaring. She was eager to learn the way of the general but she also missed Stewart; two years was a long time to wait. It was all too much to think about. Tired beyond exhaustion, Jordan welcomed sleep knowing that Stewart would be waiting in her dreams.

  She slept straight through the night, waking to find the morning sun already up and her companions attending to the camp. Stretching, she crawled out of her bedroll and strapped on her sword before heading off to find some privacy for her morning toilet.

  When she returned, the black knight was serving bowls of porridge. Jordan joined her companions in a circle around the hearth. The meal was grim, lukewarm tea and lumpy porridge, hardly the repast of heroes. Jordan forced down a swallow of sticky gruel, wondering what she was doing in the middle of mountains when she could be in Pellanor with Stewart. Jemma was definitely the smart one in the family.

  Finished with the meal, they had nothing to do but wait. Sir Cardemir brought out his lute, his baritone voice providing a pleasant distraction. Jordan liked the seahorse knight, forever thankful that he’d joined their party. He’d proved a boon companion, skilled with a lute and a sword and a quick wit. Kath seemed to like him as well, but Blaine and Duncan both bristled around the knight. The subtle competition might have been amusing if not for the ordeal of the pass.

  They lounged around the fire, speculating on the monks. When the sun was a quarter way across the sky, Duncan spied a lone figure striding across the meadow. Dressed in robes of midnight blue, the man carried a quarterstaff as a walking stick. The stranger climbed the steps of the pavilion and threw back the cowl of his robe, revealing a tanned face with smoke-gray eyes. Smiling, he held his right arm straight out. A seeing eye tattooed in dark blue ink stared from his open palm. “Seek knowledge.” He closed his hand into a fist and placed it over his heart. “Protect knowledge.” He extended his arm and opened his hand. “Share knowledge.”

  Not knowing the proper response, the companions held their silence waiting to see what would come next.

  The stranger joined them by the hearth. “I greet you. My name is Tomay, and I am a monk of the Kiralynn Order. I am a Gatekeeper for the monastery, summoned by the sound of the gong.” Nodding toward Sir Blaine, the monk added, “I hear that you come in peace.”

  Blaine blanched but held his silence. Jordan wondered at the knight’s reaction but now was not the time to ask.

  The monk turned his gaze to the seahorse knight. “You come to the monastery unbidden.”

  Sir Cardemir said, “I come as an emissary of the queen of Lanverness. Queen Liandra wishes an alliance with the Kiralynn monks”

  Kath said, “Sir Cardemir is a friend and a loyal companion.”

  The monk nodded. “Your words have been noted.”

  Duncan slipped a scroll from his saddlebag. “The rest of us have come at the invitation of your Grand Master. We carry his scroll as proof. We request you guide us to your monastery.”

  The monk nodded. “All in good time.” He gestured towards the hearth. “Please, be seated. It is a tradition of the mountains for strangers to share tea.” Seeing the companions’ hesitation, the monk added, “There is much to discuss. I would like to learn more about each of you before we travel farther.” Without waiting for a response, the monk reached into a leather rucksack, removing a battered metal teakettle and a set of small porcelain cups.

  Puzzled, the companions sat on the floor in a circle around the hearth.

  The monk spooned tea and herbs into the kettle and set it to boil over the flames. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he stared at the teakettle as if willing it to boil. Jordan sent a pointed look to her sword sister but Kath just shrugged. When the water boiled, the monk filled the teacups, handing one to each of the companions. “Tea i
s a very old tradition of the mountains. It is said that peace and harmony hold sway while strangers share a brew from a common kettle.” He lifted his cup in salute. “Join me in drinking to peace and harmony among strangers.”

  Hesitant, the companions watched as the monk sipped his tea. When they saw his cup was empty, they began to drink. Jordan took a small sip. The tea had a pleasant flavor but there was an underlying taste she could not recognize. As if the monk read her mind, he said, “The herbs in the tea will help with the altitude. Teas have many curative qualities.” Reaching for the kettle, the monk refilled each cup. “But you have not come all this way just to sample a mountain brew.”

  Duncan cut to the heart of the matter. “Will you take us to the monastery?”

  “Perhaps.” The monk sat cross-legged with his open palms turned up on his knees. “You have traveled far, but tests must be passed before you can go further. The Kiralynn Order walks in the Light. If you cannot accept this then you should turn back now.”

  The monk waited but no one objected. Raising his right hand, he revealed the tattoo of the Seeing Eye. “The Kiralynn Order remembers what the rest of the world has long forgotten. Great evils called harlequins walk among you. Hidden under the guise of men, they work the Dark Lord’s will, seeding chaos among the kingdoms of Erdhe. The Order is the nemesis of these evil ones. The Dark Lord and his minions have long sought to destroy the monastery and crush the Order, to eliminate mankind’s best hope against the harlequins. To protect the monastery, I must ask each of you to pass a test.” His hand closed into a fist. “This test is neither dangerous nor harmful…but it is revealing. Do you agree?”

  A shiver ran down Jordan’s back. There was more to this monastery than any of them suspected.

  Duncan spoke for them all. “And there is no other way of gaining the monastery?”

  “None.”

  “Then I would see this test before we agree to take it.”

  The monk nodded. “That is only fair.” He reached into his rucksack and withdrew a pair of iron tongs and a rectangular wooden box. Opening the box, he removed a blue silk pouch. He loosened the drawstrings and tilted the pouch. A crystalline shard tumbled into his palm.

  Jordan heard Kath gasp, but her reaction made no sense.

  The monk held the five-inch crystal up to the light of the fire. Pleasing to the eye, the crystalline shard had a pure geometric shape that begged to be touched, a rose-white tooth plucked from the mouth of a deep cavern. “This is a Dahlmar crystal.” He turned the shard as if to catch the light. “Crystals combine the elements of earth, air, and water. Born in the depths of the earth, crystals defy their dark heritage by transmitting light with the ease of air while their shape mimics the appearance of frozen water. But Dahlmar crystals are special, for they are the only crystals also attuned to the element of fire. By drawing on all four elements, Dahlmar crystals have a rare and valuable power.” The monk rotated the crystal, the facets of the shard winking in the firelight. “They give mere mortals the ability to detect a harlequin, the ancient evil that walks in the guise of a man. This crystal is the test.”

  Jordan stared at the shard, wondering what magic hid within the crystalline form.

  Without warning, the monk tossed the crystal into the fire.

  Jordan lunged forward, trying to catch it, but she was too slow. The shard landed among the flame-licked embers.

  The monk smiled. “The crystal will not be harmed. Fire is necessary to prove this is a true Dahlmar crystal and not just a common shard of quartz.” Flames licked at the crystal, turning it cherry-red. The monk used the tongs to extract the crystal. Free of the fire, the crystalline shard glowed with a brightness of a lantern, as if fire burned within the heart of the crystal.

  Taking it in his hand, the monk held the crystal aloft. Bathed in the eerie red light, the monk said, “An ordinary quartz crystal would shatter in the heat of the flames. Fire, like the ancient evil, will wake the magic of a Dahlmar crystal, releasing the red light locked within the crystal’s heart. In the absence of evil, the light will slowly fade.”

  As the monk spoke, the red light began to fade like an ember losing heat. In a few minutes, the crystal dulled, looking once more like an ordinary shard of rose-white quartz. “And now the test begins.” The monk placed the crystal in his fist so that only half of the shard was visible. He held the crystal so each companion could see it. “My name is Tomay and I am a monk of the Kiralynn Order. I walk in the Light.”

  Jordan held her breath, expecting some reaction, but the crystal lay dormant in the monk’s fist.

  “As the Gatekeeper of the monastery, I ask each of you to take the same test. Hold the crystal as I have done and state your name and your reason for seeking the monastery. If the ancient evil is awake within you then the crystal will reveal your true heart by glowing red.” Pausing, the monk asked, “Will you take the test?”

  Duncan held out his hand. “Let me be the first.”

  “As you wish.”

  Accepting the crystal, the archer examined the shard. Satisfied, he mimicked the monk by holding the crystal so that half of it protruded from his fist. “My name is Duncan Treloch and I come to the monastery as the companion of Princess Jordan’s Wayfaring. We come at the invitation of the Grand Master.”

  The Dahlmar crystal remained unchanged.

  The monk held his open palm toward Duncan, displaying the Seeing Eye. “Be welcome, Duncan Treloch, for you have passed the test. May you always walk in the Light.”

  Duncan passed the crystal to Sir Cardemir. The knight held the crystal aloft. “I am Sir Cardemir, a knight of Lanverness, an emissary of the queen, and the son of the Duke of Graymaris. I walk in the Light.” The crystal showed no change.

  One by one, the companions took the crystal. Jordan watched the monk, noting how his face eased with relief as each companion passed the test…almost as if he expected, or feared, a different outcome. The Navarren guards were the last to take the test.

  The monk reclaimed the crystal, a smile brightening his face. “You have all passed the test of Light. We should celebrate with a brew of tea.” He returned the crystal to its box and then began spooning tea from different tins into the kettle.

  “We’ve had enough tea.” Duncan speared the monk with his one-eyed gaze.

  “You’ll find this brew is exceptional,” the monk continued adding crushed leaves to the kettle, “befitting a celebration.”

  Quick as an arrow, Duncan grabbed the monk’s arm. “No more tea.”

  Tension flared between the two men. The monk met Duncan’s stare, but this time his mask of congeniality was gone. “You all need a cup of this brew.”

  “Need?”

  Kath gasped, her hand going to her sword. “What did you put in the tea?”

  “Nothing the second cup won’t cure.”

  Duncan snarled, “Why should we trust you?”

  “Because you need answers.”

  “But we came in peace! At the invitation of your own Grand Master.”

  “Not all of you were invited.” The monk’s gaze slid to Sir Cardemir. “It would be best if I made the tea.”

  Duncan released the monk, watching as he set the tea to boil. “So you hide menace beneath courtesy?”

  “The Kiralynn monks prefer courtesy and persuasion to violence.” His voice held a deadly edge, “You cannot fathom the evil of our enemy. The monastery must be protected.”

  “So you poison your guests?”

  “Not poison, never that!” The monk was quick to protest. “Merely something to help subdue a harlequin. The tea is a precaution, nothing more. None of you will be harmed by it.” The monk lifted the kettle, filling each cup to the brim. Reaching for his own cup, he drank the tea in one long draught.

  Jordan looked at Kath. Her sword sister shrugged. “He’s right, we need answers.” Kath reached for her cup, but Duncan stayed her hand. “No, let me test the truth of his words.” The archer stared at the monk. He took a small sip
, considered the brew and then finished the cup.

  The monk smiled. “It will only do you good.”

  Jordan took a hesitant sip. The tea carried a hint of cinnamon and apple, and something she could not name, but it had a pleasant taste. She finished the cup, searching herself for any ill effects.

  “Thank you for your trust.” The monk bowed toward them. “And now I must speak of another precaution. You have passed the test of the crystal, but you must also agree to a rule of the monastery. There are two important colors within the monastery. A yellow-gold color is meant for guests, fosterlings, and initiates of the Order. A dark blue color, like my robe, is restricted for monks and masters. Within the monastery every floor and doorway is painted either yellow-gold or midnight-blue. As a guest, you may only walk on floors or pass through doorways that are golden-yellow in color. Everything else is forbidden to you. If you violate this rule for any reason, then your very life is forfeit to the will of the Grand Master.” Pausing, the monk said, “It may sound like a simple thing, but the Rule of Color is crucial to the Order. If you cannot swear to abide by this rule then you should leave the mountain now and never return.” Pausing, the monk asked, “Will each of you swear to honor this rule?” When Duncan hesitated, the monk added, “The rule will not be confining. The monastery is large and you will not feel constricted by staying within the yellow-gold, but it is necessary that you swear to obey our law. The rule gives the monks and masters their privacy, but it also protects visitors from things that should remain hidden.”

  Duncan replied, “And if we obey your rules, will you swear that none of us will be harmed within the walls of your monastery?”

  The monk nodded, his face solemn. “I so swear.”

  Duncan said, “Then I swear by the Light to obey your rule and remain within the yellow-gold.”

  Each companion swore the oath in turn.

  The monk bowed his head in acknowledgement. “I thank you for your patience. You have passed the tests of the Gatekeeper and you are all welcome to enter the Kiralynn monastery. A Guide will lead you on the last leg of your journey.”

 

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