Nero followed him through the temple. They visited the chapel and prayed before the statues of Victory, Strife, Life and Death. They looked out over the training grounds where men in heavy armor pounded on stone figures with warhammers. Nero baked in the heat of the forge where armorsmiths birthed shiny new equipment emblazoned with the symbol of the Hourglass. They then finished with the Feasting Hall where Lucius provided Nero with fresh bread and a tea that eased his stomach.
“Paladin Adept, why am I being shown all of this?” Nero asked as they ate. “Your Order is pretty secretive, isn’t it?”
“That is something for High Paladin Andronicus to answer. And speaking of…” Lucius stood and saluted as High Paladin Andronicus entered the hall.
“At ease, Adept. Has our guest been shown around?” The High Paladin seemed a very cheerful, kind man.
“He has, your Grace,” Lucius answered. “And he was just asking about his presence here. I will take my leave.”
“Very good, Adept. Thank you.” Andronicus sat down across the table from Nero and adjusted his robe underneath the chestplate. “Feeling in the correct state of mind to talk now, Corporal?”
“I am.”
“Then perhaps you could explain why the Hero of the Wilderness has requested a station off the battlefield and spends copious leave at a Twileen tavern drinking himself stupid?” Andronicus smiled at Nero’s astonished look. “We see much within our Order, especially concerning such a presence as yours.”
“My reasons are my own,” Nero replied. “Has the Senate decided I need a spiritual intervention of some sort?”
“I did not bring you here to mold you back into an acceptable shape, Corporal. The clay that forms you is currently too soupy for that. I see that you are in pain and I offer my assistance.”
Nero frowned. “Well the tea certainly helped, so thank you for that.”
Andronicus burst into laughter. “Defensiveness. You’re a true soldier, Corporal. But I’m not speaking of your physical discomfort. On the contrary, my offer includes an abundance of that particular pain.”
“Your offer?” Nero asked.
“Surely you’ve figured it out by now, Corporal. My man took you on a tour of the facility and told you all about our order. We’re not a museum; we don’t give public tours.” Andronicus clasped his hands before him and stared intently at Nero. “I am inviting you into our order, Corporal. I want to give you the opportunity to be something much more than a drunken ghost sweeping floors in the intelligence office.”
“You want me to be a Paladin?” Nero laughed. “I apologize, your Grace, but I think that is the last thing I would want. I aim to return home after my enlistment is over.”
“I can see the appeal in that,” Andronicus replied. “You would return a hero. The drinks would be plentiful and you would have your pick of eligible women. Your grandfather’s business would benefit from your presence; you would not even have to work to justify your wages. But you won’t last long.”
Andronicus stood and approached a plaque on the wall. “I have seen this many times before, Corporal. Soldiers come back from the Wilderness with the same haunted look. We ask so much of them, most of us never understanding the toll. Soldiers are the strongest of us, aren’t they? Shouldn’t those men, above all else, be able to handle atrocity? Shouldn’t they be fine?”
Andronicus ran his fingers over the names engraved into the bronze face of the plaque. “But they’re not fine, Corporal. Their bodies may be fine, but their souls are wounded and go untreated. Your wounds go unhealed Nero and now they fester.”
“I think you might be confused about why I drink-“ Nero began.
“I don’t need your excuses, Corporal.” Andronicus turned, his face set with seriousness. “Your inebriation is but a symptom. You fled from the public eye; you turned down promotion and status; you refuse to recognize your own accomplishments. And why? Because this glory was unjustly bestowed upon you and your soul rejects it.”
“Are you saying I don’t deserve recognition for surviving the invasion?” Nero could not help but feel offended at the man’s audacity. Not even King Helfrick spoke so frankly, despite knowing the circumstances.
“Do you feel deserving of this title?” Andronicus approached him, lowering a mantle of dread atop his shoulders. “You wince at hearing the word “hero” directed at you, Nero. You retreat from it, because in your heart you are a coward.”
Nero opened his mouth, but no words came out. He could not believe how this conversation had turned.
“Do you deny it?” Andronicus barely increased his tone, but the Paladin’s voice boomed in his ears. “Your entire company— nay, your entire Regiment is dead, yet here you are. You observed Fort Augustus under siege and did not come to their assistance. You relied on a Twileen girl for rescue. Does any of this ring heroic to you?”
Nero stared forward, afraid to meet the man’s eyes. “N-no.”
“Even now you will not defend yourself against these accusations, likely because none have dared to surface them.” Andronicus lowered his head and met Nero’s eyes. “You suffer, my son, because everyone around you is lying to you. You are searching for something, Nero, and everyone hailing you as a hero and cheering your name is denying you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Absolution, Nero. That is what you seek.” Andronicus paced over to the statue of Strife. “The guilt of surviving when your brothers did not; of failing your company and yourself; of being hailed as something you are not… these demons will not leave of their own volition; they must be exorcised.”
“How?” Nero asked. “How can I rid myself of these things now? They are already done.”
Andronicus turned back to him. “Not even I can undo what has been done. That is fate. What I offer is the chance for atonement. Devote yourself to the Fates. Endure the purifying agony of our initiation. Become a Paladin, Nero, and march with us as we deliver the Fate’s retribution on the Greimere who are the source of your turmoil.”
“You want me to fight the Greimere again?” Nero felt a sinking in his stomach and went for the tea.
Andronicus slammed his fist on the table before him, spilling the tea. “Not as a soldier of Rellizbix, sent to your doom under incompetent leadership. I want you to become a Paladin, cleansed of self-doubt and weakness. I want you to wield the power of the Fates against the greatest enemy of our world.”
Nero looked up at him, fighting past the nerves that threatened to break him. “That will help me?”
“The Fates plague us when we do not follow their bidding. You have a purpose, Nero… you’re just refusing to fulfill it. Until you do, you will suffer. Put that suffering to use for me. Pass our entrance into the order and be reborn as one of my Light Hands… with the power to destroy the Greimere.”
…
Nero squared away his rack in the barracks and handed his uniform into his commanding officer. The lieutenant frowned at him the entire time and barely gave him a goodbye as the former corporal left his post and career in the Rellizbix army behind.
Heading out the front gates of the Royal Guard Headquarters, Nero saw Helfria Caelum waiting for him. He slowed at the sight of her, but continued forward, dreading what the concern on her face meant.
“I just heard from father,” said the senator, approaching him. “You’re leaving?”
“Yes… for Fates Keep.” Nero noticed the hurt expression that came over her causing his palms to sweat. “I would have told you, but I know you’re busy these days.”
“I don’t understand. You’ve kept to yourself the entire time we’ve been back from the tour. I get no word from you; only gossip about you getting piss drunk at the taverns.” Helfria shook her head. “And now I find out you’ve decided to become a Paladin. You couldn’t have talked to me about this? I thought we were friends.”
Nero shifted with unease. “I don’t know what there would be to talk about. You saw me at my worst, senator. A handful of kind words
from my grandfather and I lost it on everyone. I repaid your kindness by stonewalling you the entire trip home. I can’t handle things, senator. No amount of talking will fix that.”
“And running away from me will?”
Nero looked up at her and noticed something strange in her worrisome expression. Running away from her? He wondered what exactly she saw him as. This wasn’t about a soldier getting early release; she fumed at the loss of a friend… or something more.
Nero took a breath to steady himself. He imagined things that could not possibly be happening. Helfria was a Caelum princess and a senator. He was nothing more than a disappointing farmer and a false hero. “The Paladin Order is respected throughout the land as elite. High Paladin Andronicus promised me that he would fix me. I will receive the best training and status and the courage to use both. Your father would see me become a living billboard.”
He met her gaze for a brief moment. “Can you not be happy for me that I’ve been accepted?”
Helfria scowled. “The Paladins of my father’s day might have been respectable, but Andronicus leads them in a dangerous direction. His ambition is limitless and his political views are borderline fanatical. He would see Rellizbix turned into a theocracy.”
Nero turned away from her. “And the Greimere would see Rellizbix turned to ash. I’m a soldier, not a politician. High Paladin Andronicus has promised me the power to destroy the Greimere should I prove myself worthy of it. That is all I care about now.”
“Have you at least sent word of this to your family on the coast?” Helfria asked. “They just found out you survived and think you’re safe. They deserve to know that is no longer the case.”
“I sent a letter yesterday advising them I will be out of contact for a year for training. That is all they need to know right now. Better that they not worry needlessly.” Nero began walking toward the Temple. “Goodbye, senator. When I return, I promise I will have earned your friendship.”
“You already had it, you fool,” her words reaching him softly as he left the woman behind.
Nero did not turn around.
Chapter 20
Raegith parried the backfist and countered with a straight punch sending Qufeng flying. She hit the dirt then struggled back to her feet.
“That’s enough for tonight, Qufeng.” Raegith backed away and grabbed the water from the table nearby, drinking deeply. She joined him as he drank. Her stomach rumbled so he gave her a sideways glance.
“I know you said not to go this far...” the Lokai girl began.
“You’re not ready, Qufeng.” Raegith sighed. “Now I know why Noriko got so frustrated with me; you’re the same way.”
“I am eager to follow the Path. Hitomi burns with the same passion as I.”
“Hitomi…” Raegith took another drink then wiped his mouth. “I think she works so hard to forget where she was when I found her. Another heartbreaking story; that’s all she would have been if not for Helkree. I barely recognized her when I returned from the Junrei’sha.”
“If I excel, would you ever take me there? To the Junrei’sha?”
Raegith stared at her. “Is that your aim? You wish to join them on their mountain for eternity, forsaking the cares of this world? Forsaking your people?”
Qufeng retreated a step. “I wish to learn as you, Grass-Hair. To better serve our people.”
“The Junrei’sha do not care about us here.” Raegith placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Getting to them was the most arduous task I’ve ever undertaken. I might not have even made it had I not been found by Izanami. I had to kill my mentor in order to leave and I hated it.”
Qufeng nodded without speaking.
“We’ll talk more of this later. I need to visit Hitomi and make sure she is not wrecking herself with training again.” Raegith strolled across the training court toward the medical building, but turned back after a few steps. “You’re doing well, Qufeng. Eat something, please.”
Raegith opened the door to Hitomi’s room and his Helcat quickly straightened and waved off Ariadne. Raegith switched between the two with curious looks until the Mage spoke up.
“The patient is recovering as well as can be expected for someone who refuses to rest.”
“What were you two doing?” Raegith asked in the Greimere tongue.
“What does it look like, Grass-Hair? She was fussing over me, as always. These Faeir don’t understand Greimere toughness.”
“When did you start calling them Faeir?” Raegith looked at Ariadne and switched languages. “Are you teaching her something?”
“Beretta translated the initial request. Helcat Hitomi is a proud woman and I was impressed that she set that aside to ask this of me.” Ariadne caught the glare from Hitomi, but continued after backing out of Hitomi’s reach. “I have been tutoring her in the Thromdale dialect for three weeks now.”
Raegith looked at Hitomi without turning his head. “You’re learning the Rellizbix tongue on your own?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” she barked. “You speak it; Beretta speaks it… even Izanami can talk to our captives. If I can’t polish my skills with my naginata; I will acquire a new skill.”
“Can you say anything, yet?” Raegith asked.
“Thank you for the meal.”
Raegith laughed more at the sound of Hitomi’s voice speaking in Rellizbix than at the random phrase she gave him.
Hitomi threw an empty soup bowl at him. “She makes me say it every time I eat, you asshole. It’s only been three weeks and I don’t have a magic dragon lady I can bone for it.”
When they had both finished laughing, Hitomi settled back into a serious demeanor and Raegith immediately missed her smile. She rarely looked happy these days.
Raegith sat down on the bed next to Hitomi but jumped back up after seeing the wall across from her. “Holy shit. What the hell is that?”
On the wall, half hidden by the opened door, stood a vision of Hitomi in armor, taking a fighting stance. On a closer look, Raegith could tell the image was flat against the wall and he could just make out the brush strokes when he stared, but for a moment he thought someone else had been hiding in the room with them.
“Ardyx has been in my room.” Hitomi made the statement in a flat tone, but Raegith did not hear any malice in it.
Raegith touched the wall and ran his fingers over the dried paint. He looked back and forth from the real Hitomi to the painted one. “That is… is he using magic or something?”
“A Gimlet could never be capable of magic,” Ariadne replied in the Greimere tongue. Hitomi was not the only one in the room learning something new. “It requires a level of intellect well beyond their little minds. However, this craftsmanship is on the level of Twileen Masters whose work hangs in the halls of Faeir colleges in Rellizbix.”
“I’m not even mad, really.” Hitomi stared at her image on the wall. “I feel like I definitely should be, but I’m just too damn impressed.”
“Yeah. He might have a place in this empire, after all.”
Raegith turned toward Hitomi, but neither of them spoke for several moments.
“Are you still visiting our prisoner?” Hitomi asked, staring him down. “Is the bitch who shot me while hiding still alive?”
Raegith took a deep breath and kept eye contact despite the discomfort. “You killed her father, Hitomi. She’s about the same age you were when you killed for the first time; and just like you did, she wakes up screaming about it.”
“You want me to feel sorry for her? She killed a dozen of us since taking me down. It was a good run for someone so broken up about death, but she’s done now.” Hitomi huffed and turned her gaze away. “She’s the enemy and she’s in our prison. Why didn’t Helkree just put an axe through her face when she had the chance?”
“I don’t know why she didn’t. Perhaps she was impressed by how much fight such a small frame had in it.” Raegith turned toward the door. “I have a plan and she will meet her fate soon. Until then, I need y
ou to rest, Hitomi. The weather grows warm again and I refuse to plan our next battle without you at my side.”
…
The walls of the fort rumbled with cheers and howls as Helkree and Fenra brought Chev’El up from the prison and out into the training court. Gimlets banged their strange instruments together and danced atop the roofs of the surrounding buildings. Rathgar, Lokai and Urufen encircled a medium area in the center, creating an arena, while others filled in the alleys between buildings. Atop the ramparts, guards glanced over their shoulders before returning to their watch.
Raegith stood in the center of the circle, shirtless and staring forward, emotionless. The Helcats hauled Chev’El up to the only table in the area, atop which lay her dagger and hatchet. Her shackles were removed. Helkree nodded at her weapons before retreating into the crowd. At the far side, Hitomi leaned against Qufeng’s shoulder for support and draped her other arm around Naoko’s neck.
Chev’El hesitated for only a moment before snatching the weapons from the table and spinning to make sure none came for her.
“Chev’El of Duransk, you are charged with being an enemy of the Greimere and a threat to our conquest of these lands.” Raegith spoke in the Greimere tongue for the sake of his people. “As your actions took place during war and because the Greimere are above all else honorable, you are given this opportunity to atone through combat.”
As the crowd cheered, Chev’El stared at him and in her eyes he saw a faint glimmer of hurt, quickly replaced with fury. Though she did not know the words he spoke, she figured out the intent.
Raegith switched to her language. “This is more than most get, Chev’El. Defeat me and you walk free of this place unharmed. Falter and I will kill you with my bare hands.”
Chev’El raced forward, not waiting for further invitation. Her blades arced out and Raegith barely avoided them. Helkree had told him how quick she moved, but the Twileen had been injured when those two fought. Thanks to Raegith’s parlay, Chev’El operated at full strength.
Wrath of the Greimere Page 15
