The effort of the climb and the close quarters, jostling as they climbed, started to wear on Catrin, and she felt light-headed. When they finally reached the upper level, the throng poured onto the plateau and surrounded the highest pasture. In the center of the pasture lay two still forms flanked by two foals that wailed in their mourning.
"Vertook! Brunson!" Catrin shrieked as she ran headlong toward the bodies, her heart pounding. No enemy showed themselves. There was nothing but serenity surrounding the two dead men. When she drew close enough to make out the details, she saw the shafts of arrows protruding from their backs. Bright red fletching caught the light and shone like a beacon of death. The pain in her chest made her wonder if she would die of a broken heart.
The burst of energy she used to get there wore thin, and emotions overwhelmed her. Grief and anger flared high. Deep-seated fears and regrets were merciless in their assault. Leaning to one side, her knees buckled. Mother Gwendolin stepped in front of her and reached out to catch her. Catrin hit the ground hard, and she wondered a moment that Mother Gwendolin had failed to catch her.
Mother Gwendolin stood, frozen, her face locked in a look of extreme shock. The color drained from her face, and a crimson rose bloomed on her smock. She crumbled to the ground in the next instant, and Catrin cried out in horror. A shaft protruded from Mother Gwendolin's back, and the plateau exploded with activity. Two archers had been hidden among high rock formations, but they had revealed themselves to take the shot.
Guards climbed toward them, but one assassin turned and leaped off the cliffs to his death. The other nocked an arrow and drew. Three arrows struck him before he could release, and his shot flew high over Catrin's head. With a scream of agony and frustration, the second assassin fell from the cliff.
Catrin was mired in confusion-everything had happened so fast. Unwilling to believe this was real, she prayed it was all a dream and waited for something to wake her, but nothing did. Rough hands grabbed her and pulled her from the plateau, back into shelter. When her eyes met those of Captain Longarm, tears blurred her vision, and she barely recognized him. He gave her a sad smile.
"I'm sorry for your losses, Lady Catrin, and we'll all grieve Mother Gwendolin, but I must get you to safety. We don't know if there are more men laying in wait, and I'll not take any chances with your life," he said as he guided her to a hall filled with the largest table she'd ever seen. With a highly polished surface, the table looked as if it had been carved in place. Hooded monks already occupied many of the chairs surrounding it, but no one acknowledged Catrin when she arrived.
The mood in the air was appropriately somber, but Catrin found it oppressive. She could not seem to comprehend the day's events. Everything seemed to be happening around her, but she did not feel a part of it. She had no influence on the course of events.
"What was she doing on the plateau?" Sister Velona raged as she entered the hall, her face revealed by her erratic movements, and her tirade broken only by random bouts of sobbing. "How could anyone have been so foolish as to allow her safety to be jeopardized in such a way? Your incompetence has been fatal this time. Boil you all!" News traveled fast around Ohmahold, and those of station soon packed the hall. The gamut of emotions was expressed, shouted, cried, and rehashed.
"To the harpies with the Zjhon and their evil ways! They must be stopped," one man shouted as he pounded his fists on the table.
"Hang those who allowed her to go into harm's way," another demanded, but cooler heads prevailed, and such overreactions were quickly quelled.
Catrin shrank in on herself. The deaths were all because of her. This was all her fault. Ultimately, she could be blamed for much of the problems facing the world-it was a difficult thing to accept. When Benjin arrived, her composure completely fled, and she ran to him. Sobbing into his robes, she let him lead her back to a seat.
When her tears had run their course, she looked up at him; his face was a mask of grim determination. Only the tears that slid down his cheeks gave evidence of his pain and mourning. The meeting came to a sense of order as Brother Vaughn pounded a gavel against the table, and the noise cut off all conversation.
"It is a dark day for us, brethren, but we must maintain our resolve. Two men scaled the cliffs to gain access to Ohmahold. They took the lives of two good men and our beloved Mother. This cannot be changed, and only those who committed the heinous deeds can be held responsible. They stole from us the chance to exact our preferred manner of justice, but in taking their own lives, they did justice. They admitted their guilt and removed themselves from our world."
His words were not joyful, but they kindled reason among those gathered, and some who had been so vocal at first were now abashed and subdued. Catrin leaned on Benjin's shoulder and took whatever comfort he could offer. The pain in her chest had not abated, and the throbbing was impossible to ignore, but she endured as best she could.
"In the event of her passing, Mother Gwendolin requested Sister Velona succeed her. I make the motion to enact the late Mother's wishes. What say you?" Brother Vaughn asked. The response was muted but in unanimous agreement. Sister Velona appeared stunned, as if she had been unaware of Mother Gwendolin's desires, and she was removed from the room to prepare for her ascension. In her absence, Brother Vaughn continued to moderate.
"The Cathuran order has always advocated neutrality in the affairs of the nations, but under these circumstances, we cannot remain indifferent. War is upon us. Lady Catrin's cause is to defeat the Zjhon, and I make the motion that we support her in her quest. What say you?"
Heated debates raged around the table, and Brother Vaughn let the collective sort their opinions and establish their stances before he called them to order.
"What say you?" he asked again, and the motion was approved but with little enthusiasm. Catrin could not blame them. They had suffered a tremendous loss, and none of them had known her for very long. "We all have our own preparations to make for the interment, but I suggest we form committees to handle the basic governing of Ohmahold until after Sister Velona's ascension. What say you?" This was met with almost unanimous agreement, and they proceeded to assign committees and their chairs. Catrin turned to Benjin with uncertainty in her eyes, but he was still unaware of her dire news, and she decided on her own to stand and speak out.
"Brother Vaughn and those of the Cathuran order, I request permission to address the assembly," she said, trying to honor the formalities. She flushed as every eye turned to her; the fact that hoods obscured the eyes and faces made the experience increasingly disconcerting.
"I make the motion to grant Lady Catrin the floor. What say you?" Brother Vaughn intoned, and Catrin was surprised to receive unanimous approval.
"I, too, mourn the loss of Mother Gwendolin. She was kind, and I will always cherish her memory. But I also bear distressing news that I had only just reported before…" She trailed off, not wishing to say the words, and she sensed approval. "During my time in the viewing chamber, I found its true purpose. I left my physical body and soared through the heavens." She paused as reactions rippled through the room: disbelief, wonder, distrust, and excitement all within the mixture.
"My journey took me south, where I spotted a line of pilgrims that stretched across the land. When I located their destination, I saw a great landslide and the bones of a mighty beast being excavated. It was not the bones, though, that drew the pilgrims. On the other side of the rockfall, I found a chasm, where the land had been torn apart, and within, I saw the glowing face of Istra. They are exhuming a Statue of Terhilian." Shock and horror radiated through the room, and not a sound was made for some time.
"Von of the Elsics created the statues to trick the Zjhon and the Varics into destroying themselves, and it nearly worked," one hooded figure said, and Catrin thought she recognized the voice of Sister Hanna. "Both nations gathered around what had been described as tokens of peace from the gods. Even after the destruction caused when the statues exploded, the Zjhon continued to believe
the statues were truly divine-gifts from the gods themselves. They were convinced the statues weren't responsible for the devastation, rather they blamed it on nonbelievers. They'll parade the most deadly artifact ever created as if it were a trophy, a true sign of their superiority. It seems we find ourselves faced with the same debate that raged nearly three thousand years ago. Are the Statues of Terhilian divine gifts that must be honored and worshipped in order to please god and goddess, or are they gruesome weapons that will release cataclysmic forces once charged?"
Sister Hanna turned to Catrin directly. "You are certain you saw this, are you not? This is not a matter to be taken lightly. You did say the face glowed, did you not?"
Her questions hammered at Catrin's resolve, but she did the best she could to maintain grace in the face of such scrutiny. "I am certain," she said without a trace of doubt. Debate raged in the hall, and Catrin returned to her seat. Benjin cast her a questioning gaze, and she related the tale of her vision journey. He listened intently, and Catrin had to raise her voice above the din.
"Our world has become a very dangerous place indeed," Benjin said when she finished her tale.
"Agreed," Brother Vaughn said as he approached them from behind. "I apologize. I did not mean to impose upon your conversation, but I feel we should meet in private when this meeting has adjourned, which should be shortly. Please remain behind when the others depart." Catrin and Benjin nodded their assent, and Brother Vaughn returned to address the assembly. At the same time, Catrin remembered the hall.
"Brother Vaughn," she said, and he returned to her side. "I nearly forgot in the insanity of this day. I have good news as well."
"Good news would be most welcome on this otherwise lightless day," he said, and Catrin could see how drained he was. She could feel his fatigue and anguish as if it were her own. In many ways, it was. When she told him about a lost hall filled with ancient treasure, a flicker of hope crossed his visage, and he thanked her.
"Brothers and Sisters, a light shines in the darkness; we have been blessed with new hope to face the despair. I've just been informed that Lady Catrin has located a cache of ancient knowledge within Ohmahold. I make the motion that we send a committee to investigate and convene this meeting until the evening meal. What say you?"
Excitement washed over the room but was quickly subdued in the memory of their loss. Nonetheless, it was at least one good omen, and some clung to it. A committee was assigned, and Catrin found herself whisked from the hall. Brother Vaughn led the group, and she spoke to him as they walked, filling him in on the details.
"You walked into a death chamber?" he asked, incredulous.
"It seemed like the right thing to do at the moment," she said under Benjin's accusing glare, but when they reached the hall, she did not hesitate. She marched ahead of the group, despite the many protests. Brother Vaughn and Benjin matched her stride, and she was honored by their display of trust. Only when Brother Vaughn exclaimed, "By the heavens! So much knowledge that has been just beyond our reach," did the rest of the group edge along the hall.
Brother Vaughn visibly resisted the urge to explore and left another monk in charge of the investigation. "Come, let us slip off while the rest are occupied," he said, and Catrin followed him with Benjin on her heels.
Chapter 15
Nothing could be more terrifying than horrors wrought by one's own hand.
- -Imeteri, slave
***
Brother Vaughn led them to a warm and cozy section of the hold. Thick carpets covered the floors, and lanterns bathed the halls in an inviting glow. Elaborately carved doors were staggered along the halls, and he stopped at one that bore a scene of eagles soaring over a magnificent waterfall. He paid it little mind as he admitted them to his personal apartments, which was an honor, and Catrin recognized it as such.
The walls of his home were covered in paintings and sketches of birds, which were fantastic in their variety and beauty. A partially completed sketch of the violet hummingbird rested on an easel, and Brother Vaughn's talents were obvious; the detail and accuracy was without equal. Shelves and tables were covered in scrolls and sheets of parchment with scribbled notes. Only one of the four chairs around the table was free of scrolls and bound tomes, and Catrin decided to stand rather than disturb the organized clutter. Benjin paced the floor, a fury of emotions plain in his visage. Brother Vaughn seemed to have forgotten they were with him as he searched under various piles of parchment.
"I know they're here somewhere," he said as if he speaking to himself. "Ah, yes, here they are." He held a wooden box that barely filled his palm. It was made of dark, rich wood and had a lustrous finish; gold filigree covered the corners, and the clasp formed the head of a fearsome serpent.
"There are those within our order who spend their entire lives seeking artifacts from antiquity. You have Brother Ramirez to thank for finding, identifying, and preserving these. Though he went to his grave many years ago, I'm sure he would be thrilled to see you have them. Mother Gwendolin planned to give them to you, and she asked me to retrieve them. I deliver them to you now as the fulfillment of one of her final wishes," he said and raised the lid. Light reflected merrily off two fully charged noonstones that lay within. They were much smaller than Imeteri's Fish had been, but now that Catrin knew their value, they seemed large-a treasure.
Catrin accepted the box with trepidation. She did not feel comfortable accepting such a valuable gift, but she did not want to dishonor the wishes of Mother Gwendolin, and she chose to receive the endowment with grace. She would bear the gift along with the memory of Mother Gwendolin, a tribute to her kindness and wisdom.
"It is a precious gift, indeed. I vow to use these only toward the good of the world, and when I have finished my work, I will return them to you. You have my word," Catrin said, and she bound herself to the commitment. Brother Vaughn gave her a smile and a small bow as she tucked the gilded box into her pocket. Just having the stones near her brought comfort and solace, and she would treasure them for as long as she possessed them.
"I'm afraid we must move on to less pleasant subjects," Brother Vaughn said. "I have enough support within our order to help you on your way, but you'll not be allowed to remain at Ohmahold. Please take no insult from this. We Cathurans are not without our own politics, and with our long history, there are long-standing issues at hand. The ascension of Sister Velona will not be a smooth one, and while I fear no attacks from within our order, I don't think you should be here come spring. The armies will be at our doorstep, and there will be no telling what will happen." It was obvious his heart was heavy with sadness and regret.
Catrin reeled. Where would she and her companions go? No refuge awaited them. Nowhere was safe. She couldn't think of any place that would accept her, and a sharp pain pierced her heart. Nowhere was she welcome. Benjin gave her arm a squeeze, and she appreciated his support and calm.
"It would be terribly difficult to remain inconspicuous while traveling with young men," Brother Vaughn continued. "It'll be hard enough to explain why you aren't with the armies. Benjin is old enough that he should be able to appear lame. We do not object, in any way, to Osbourne, Chase, and Strom staying with us. We have no grievances with any of you, and it may be the safest place for them to be," he said.
Catrin was torn and confused. She couldn't imagine them sending her and Benjin out into the snow; it would be as good as sending them to their graves.
"Before you come to any conclusions, there is more," Brother Vaughn said in response to her consternation. "I am violating protocol, but I will do what I feel is right. There are mines that run throughout these mountains, and we recently discovered an ancient complex that stretches for hundreds of miles. It is a perilous journey, but there is one way out that I am familiar with. It's far from pleasant, but I can get you to a place within the virgin forests of Astor. From there, I can try to summon Barabas and hope he sees my signal. It may take some time for him to arrive, but he will guide you through the
wilderness."
"Who is Barabas?"
"He's a trusted friend. Otherwise, I find him indescribable. You'll simply have to meet him for yourselves."
"I'll need to speak with my Guardians about this," Catrin said, unsure of what to do, though it seemed she had little choice, having worn out her welcome.
"Yes, of course, I understand. But I'm afraid we have little time. If I am to guide you, we must leave this day. Soon I'll be entrenched in ceremony and ritual. I have but ten days before the rites of ascension begin, and I'll be hard pressed to make it back in time. Please do not delay."
"Thank you. Your kindness and support are greatly appreciated. I'll seek out my Guardians this instant and will return to you as soon as possible."
"I would do more if I could, but I am bound by my duties," he said as Catrin and Benjin departed for the First Inn. Before they closed the door behind themselves, though, he called after them. "Have you any weapons at the guardhouse?"
"Yes. Thank you for reminding me," Catrin replied.
"I'll write you a weapons pass so that you may arm yourselves," he said as he scribbled on a piece of parchment, closing it with his wax seal. "Just give this to the guard, and he will return your weapons. Keep it with you in case any of the guards stop you on your way back."
Catrin and Benjin spoke little during the long walk, but his presence alone was comforting. The uncertainty of her future consumed Catrin's thoughts. She considered Brother Vaughn's words regarding the boys, but she hated the thought of leaving them behind; they had all come so far together. But even if they stayed, at least she would not have to go alone.
Word of the attack preceded them. The streets were empty, and a somber pall hung over the common room at the First Inn. Chase, Strom, and Osbourne sat at a corner table. When Catrin and Benjin entered, they leaped from their chairs and rushed to greet them. Tears flowed freely as they shared their grief along with the joy of seeing one another. Benjin urged them back to the table. They huddled together, and Catrin rattled off the news in a whisper.
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