“Perhaps so. But these beings serve Him, child. Whether you wish to call them gods or angels or lords makes little difference; they wield power in His name and that is all that matters, is that not so?”
Liliana thought about that. She was not religious, but had been raised by parents who were and old beliefs died hard. It felt wrong to think of more than one God in the Heavens, but if she thought of these lords of Light as servants of God, or angels, then that made it easier to accept. And if they were angels, then the dark lords were demons.
Yes, I will think of them that way, she concluded. It feels better to me.
“Yes sir, that is so.”
“Good. Now, you are standing at a crossroads, young woman,” Sir Rafael told her gravely. “And you have a choice to make. On that wall,” he pointed with his sword, “is a hidden switch. If you search carefully, you will find it eventually. It opens a door to a passageway that will lead you back up to the surface. You may leave at any time you wish.”
Liliana felt a surge of relief, knowing that she was not trapped underground.
“Thank you, sir. But you said I have a choice? What choice is that?”
He stared at her, his eyes like dark holes beneath his heavy brows.
“My spirit has been trapped in this chamber for a millennium, waiting for the day when someone would come to free me from this unending imprisonment. If you wish it, and if you are strong enough, perhaps that day is today.”
She looked at his noble face and heard the plea beneath his formal tone. This person, dead though he was, was suffering. Could she truly help him?
“What must I do?” she asked.
He smiled grimly.
“As I said, I was cursed, tricked by dark forces. The man whom I served in life was a member of the royal family. He sent me out on a mission to track down and destroy a group of rebels, traitors to the crown. As I believed in his virtue and nobility, I accepted the task without question.”
His face twisted with anger.
“But I was deceived. The men whom I killed were innocent; merely ordinary people who disagreed with some of the crown's rulings. My patron knew this, of course, and used me to get rid of what he considered to be a minor irritation.” He shook his head. “Such arrogance; to slaughter innocents because they were inconvenient. Despicable.”
“That's horrible,” Liliana said.
“It was. And when I learned the truth and confronted him, this so-called noble laughed in my face. He mocked me, telling me that my place as a bogatyr was to obey and not question my betters.”
“What did you do?”
Sir Rafael looked at Liliana's wide-eyed expression and seemed slightly amused.
“Do not look so concerned, child. Even in my rage, I would not stoop to petty revenge. I looked at him in contempt and spat at his feet. 'I will not serve a man who has no honor', I said to him. And when he became enraged and raised a hand to me, I simply smiled and tapped my sword hilt. Coward that he was, he let me go rather than challenge me man to man.”
“And then what happened?” Liliana asked anxiously, caught up in the story.
“Something that I should have expected from someone as craven as he was. Before I left court for the last time to return home, he had me poisoned. I do not know what vile potion was used, but it did not kill me until I was back on my own estates, where my former patron could claim that I could not have died at his hands. A true snake to the end, that one.”
The ghost waved a hand at the room around them.
“My father, a truly honorable man, feared that my final resting place would be disturbed by agents of that vile man, and had this tomb constructed to keep my remains safe. He did not know that, by my dishonorable act in taking the lives of innocents, I had been cursed to remain locked away in this prison, perhaps for eternity.”
“But...that isn't fair!” Liliana exclaimed angrily. “You didn't know that they were innocent. It was the fault of the man who sent you on that mission, not yours.”
Sir Rafael shook his head.
“Mine was the hand that raised the sword, child. Mine were the ears that ignored my victims pleas for mercy. And mine was the soul that was stained with the blood of those unjustly killed. Excuses are merely that; excuses. If you are truly a person who follows the path of honor, you should know that instinctively. I have served my penance willingly, alone and longing for the Light for a thousand years. Perhaps you are here because the lords of Justice have finally granted me mercy and believe that I have suffered enough. Or perhaps not. That decision rests with you and you alone.”
“I don't understand.”
The ghost turned and nodded at the marble tomb.
“Within that cold stone rests my mortal remains, including the sword that I wielded in life”.
He lifted the weapon in his hand and looked at it disdainfully.
“Not this sad token of my transgression, but my true sword; a symbol of the Light's favor and a powerful weapon against evil. It was a gift passed down to me by a man of great nobility. As it was handed down to him, and then to me, so too must I pass it on to another if I am to be released from my bonds. Take it, if you will, and set my soul free.”
Liliana looked at the tomb in awe. She reached out a hand and laid her palm on top of the marble.
“But be warned,” Sir Rafael said sharply.
She pulled back her hand and looked at him in surprise.
“Only one who is pure of heart, who vows to fight evil and defend the innocent, may take up the sword. That is why it was buried here with me; none from my time were worthy to touch it. If you are not such a person, Liliana Travnikov, then let it pass and leave this place.”
“And if I am not worthy?” she asked nervously. “And I try to take the sword? What then?”
“What then? Then I shall kill you myself and your soul will take my place here in the darkness, to know only loneliness and regret, perhaps forever.” The ghost shook his heavy head. “Do not attempt this task lightly, child. If you are unsure, if you have doubts, then let it pass and live your life. I would not subject another soul to the horrors of this crypt; not even to save myself from its ceaseless torment.”
Liliana had never bowed before, but she did so now.
“You are truly a good soul, Sir Rafael,” she told him. “Another person might not have warned me of the dangers of making the wrong choice, but you did. The gods, or whatever they call themselves, may disagree, but I think that your imprisonment was cruel and unjust.”
The ghostly figure appeared startled at her comment and actually smiled for the first time.
“I am honored that you think so, child, but there are no shades of gray in the Light. There is right and wrong, good and evil, black and white. What I did was, perhaps, forgivable to someone not sworn to the Light's service. But for me, it was a transgression that went against everything that I believed in, and my punishment was fitting.”
Liliana turned away and walked slowly to the wall and back again, thinking hard. Did she want to fight evil, specifically those hunters that were killing her people, and the dragons that had destroyed Moscow? Of course she did. Did she want to protect the innocent from the cruelties and horrors of the new world? Naturally. But was she pure of heart? That she did not know.
She looked at the ghost, who was patiently watching and waiting for her decision.
“Sir, what does it mean to be pure of heart? I have had children, you know. I was married to a man who was unkind to me, and I did not wish him well when he left me to raise my three daughters alone. Can a person be pure of heart after that?”
Sir Rafael smiled again and Liliana could see the gentle man that he had once been behind the ghostly visage.
“Did you track him down and kill him? No? Did you raise your children to the best of your ability and work hard to care for them, putting their needs ahead of your own? Yes? Then I would say that you are pure of heart and of spirit. But my feelings do not enter into it, child. The questi
on is, do the lords of Light believe as I do? That I cannot say. It is a risk. And heed me,” he added harshly. “If you do take up my sword and betray the values that the Light insists you follow, the sword itself will turn on you. I will warn you again; this is not a decision to make lightly. Think it through thoroughly.”
Liliana considered his answer for a moment and then nodded.
“Yes sir, I have thought it through. In the past few weeks I have seen innocents slaughtered. I have seen my city burned to ashes by evil beasts out of my worst nightmares. And I have been helpless before it all. But if it means that I can fight back against the monsters that are rampaging across the land and that I can free you from this sad fate, then my decision is clear, is it not? After all, my family, my friends, all that I have ever known, are gone. What else do I have to live for except to fight back against the darkness?”
“Ah,” Sir Rafael said. “I understand. What else indeed. Very well then. If you are determined to accept this burden, you must open the tomb and take up my sword. I cannot aid you in this.”
The spirit drifted away from the marble sarcophagus and watched from a distance.
Liliana gave him a final glance and dropped her torch on the ground. She approached the tomb and set her hands against the thick slab on top of it. Taking a deep breath, she leaned into it and pushed as hard as she could.
There was a moment's resistance and then the heavy cover began to slide, squealing loudly as if in pain. Liliana gritted her teeth against the noise and continued to shove. Inch by slow inch the slab moved to one side until, with an ear-splitting crash, it slipped off of the tomb and landed on the floor, leaning drunkenly against the side of the stone coffin.
She looked over at Sir Rafael, who nodded once in approval as he floated above the ground. He remained silent though and Liliana realized that this was her moment; the bogatyr would not interfere.
She wiped her hands on her shirt, picked up her flickering torch and raised it high as she peered into the open tomb.
Inside, the skeletal remains of a tall man stared up at the ceiling through empty eye sockets. It was wearing heavy iron armor that had rusted over the centuries and was green with mold. It had fallen apart into several pieces and was obviously useless. But laid on its chest was a weapon sheath that still smelled faintly of oil. A hilt that was wrapped tightly with silver wire and capped with a red gem caught the light of the torch and reflected it dimly inside of the tomb.
“Take it, child,” the voice of the knight whispered.
Liliana reached into the cavity with a trembling hand and picked up the sheath. It was heavier than she had expected as she lifted it from its resting place and turned toward the glowing figure of Sir Rafael.
She tossed aside the torch and grasped the hilt firmly, holding the sheath with her left hand. She locked eyes with the knight and swallowed loudly.
“In the name of the Light, I take up this burden and release you,” Liliana said to him. “Be free of this place, Sir Rafael Cheryazova, and go on to your eternal rest.”
Where the words came from she never knew, but they seemed right somehow. And then, with one smooth motion, she drew the sword.
The weapon blazed in the glow of the torches, absorbing and reflecting the light like a beacon in the darkness. A slap of wind danced past her face and disappeared, making her shiver. The air vibrated with a sound like the ringing of a great bell and Liliana looked at the sword in awe.
Wickedly sharp, the blade was broad for most of its length, tapering to a point at the end. Now that she held it, the hilt seemed to fit into her palm as if made just for her. It warmed against her skin and for just an instant she felt like she was ten feet tall. The sense of power was overwhelming and she became light-headed.
But Liliana had always been a practical woman and, as exciting as the moment was, she knew the euphoria for what it was. She smiled at the weapon as if at a familiar old friend and whispered to it.
“Not so fast,” she said softly. “I hope that we will do great things together, but not just yet. Let us get to know each other a little first.”
The light faded from the blade and now it was simply a superb weapon, deadly but not supernatural. She nodded in satisfaction.
“Good. One step at a time.”
“It is done,” the ghost said in a ringing voice.
Liliana looked at him and watched as his body began to fade into the darkness.
“The pact is made and witnessed. I am free.”
As he disappeared, she heard his voice one last time.
“Go forth, young paladin, and seek your destiny.”
And then he was gone. Liliana stared into the gloom and felt a sense of elation. The knight was free of his prison and, she hoped, had gone to his well-earned rest. She looked down at the blade and slipped it back into its sheath. A belt hung from the scabbard and she fastened it around her waist so that it hung comfortably low on her hips.
Her torch had burned out and she picked up another one from its bracket. She walked toward the back of the room to search for the hidden door that Sir Rafael had mentioned and then stopped, frowning in thought.
What had the knight called her at the last? Paladin? What did that mean?
Liliana rolled the word around in her mind. Paladin. No, it was not familiar to her. Was it a title? A vocation? She didn't know.
“Well, a word is just a word,” she said to herself. “And whatever it means, I have certainly been called worse.”
She chuckled at that and then began searching for the switch to open the exit. Knowing that it was there made it easier to find somehow and, as her fingers brushed against a small rough square of stone, she pushed it firmly.
Invisible gears began to grind loudly and a narrow section of the wall descended into the ground. She watched it disappear and moved forward, holding her torch before her.
A passageway, narrow and constricting, led to a winding staircase carved out of the native rock. She climbed it carefully. The stone under her feet was broken with age and quite slippery. Liliana was eager to reach the surface and breathe fresh air again, but she didn't want to break her neck in her rush.
A few minutes passed and then she reached the top of the steps. Over her head a trapdoor blocked her way. She saw a metal ring hanging from it, grasped it and pulled down firmly. Nothing happened. Frowning, Liliana examined the door and then tried turning the ring to the left and right.
A squeal of rusted bolts echoed loudly as she apparently unlocked the trapdoor and then it dropped open, followed by an avalanche of black earth.
She ducked her head, spluttering in surprise, and stepped back to avoid the torrent of dirt. She shook her head to get rid of the gritty soil and wiped off her eyes with the back of her hand.
Her torch had gone out, but there was dim light above her and, once the dirt had stopped falling she looked up, trying to see what was blocking her way.
Roots. Grassy roots heavy with earth could be seen with little sparkles of sunlight peeking through them. She walked up the last few steps, closed her eyes and pushed against the barrier.
More dirt fell on her head but she felt the soft blockage give way as she shoved at it and then she climbed out into bright daylight.
Liliana brushed the dirt from her face and clothes as she looked around, trying to figure out where she was.
It was late afternoon and she was standing in the center of a field of grass and wildflowers. To the west she could just make out the top of the fence that surrounded the cemetery. Apparently, whoever had built Sir Rafael's tomb had wanted the exit to remain secret. They had done a good job.
She slipped off her pack and took out her water bottle, emptying it as she gulped down the last of the liquid.
I'll have to find some water, she thought as she put the canteen away.
She untied her braid, shook out her hair and braided it tightly again. As she did, she kept a wary eye open. Those hunters might still be around and she didn't want to be taken b
y surprise.
What I need, she thought as she picked up her pack and began to walk away from the cemetery, is armor, like Sir Rafael wore. But where would I find armor? A museum maybe?
She nodded to herself.
Of course! A museum! Or perhaps a college or university? Maybe. But had any such places survived the dragon attacks? Possibly in a smaller city or town.
Liliana considered it as she crossed the farmer's fields. She was heading south again, away from Moscow. She didn't know what towns lay in her path, but she resolved to search any that she came across for places that might actually have old armor on display. The odds of finding some were slim, but then again it wouldn't hurt to look.
Chapter 10
As she made her way south, Liliana constantly ran her fingers over the scabbard, getting used to the feel and weight of it. At first, the constant banging of the sheath against her thigh was irritating, but she became used to it and, after a day, no longer even noticed it.
Every time she stopped to rest, Liliana drew the sword and examined it. She swung at imaginary enemies, acuity aware at how awkward she was and how comical she must look.
I don't know what I'm doing, she said to herself as she swung irritably at a tall clump of grass.
She was sitting under a tree, resting, two days after finding the sword. She turned it over and over in her hands and occasionally swung it at the high grass around her.
“If I'm attacked by one of those hunters, I'll be an easy target, sword or no sword,” she said quietly as she swiped at a thin sapling. “I wish that Sir Rafael had been able to pass along his weapon skills along with his blade.”
She felt a twinge of embarrassment as she realized how ungrateful that sounded. Hadn't the knight done enough? Of course he had.
But damn it! What is the point of having such a weapon if I die the first time I have to use it?
Liliana brooded about it as she ate cold beans out of a can. It was the last of her food and she hoped that she'd come across a house soon that hadn't already been emptied by other refugees. She still couldn't bring herself to hunt or set traps, not that she knew how to construct one anyway, so searching empty homes was her only recourse.
The First Paladin (The New Earth Chronicles Book 1) Page 13
