Sentinals Justice: Book Three of the Sentinal Series

by Helen Garraway

  “Yes,” Birlerion replied, concentrating on blindly swimming into the inky darkness. He hesitantly reached out in front of him. “The water level doesn’t rise up to the ceiling at any point, does it? I don’t want to knock myself out.”

  “Don’t think so,” Jerrol said, his voice soft and remote. “You know, these rocks are quite amazing. They must have been here for thousands of years. Look at the columns up there, hanging from the ceiling. I wonder if any of them fall.”

  “Don’t,” Birlerion spluttered. “We have enough problems already. I’ve picked up a bit of a current. It goes off to the right, I think.”

  “Yes, too the right, that’s right,” Jerrol muttered.

  “I can see a light up ahead,” Birlerion said, his voice loud in the echoey darkness. “We’re nearly there.”

  Birlerion swam steadily towards the faint light, the cavern above him taking shape as the dim light alleviated the inky darkness. Limestone columns rose around them, disappearing into the shadows above.

  The current helped them drift towards the gaping hole ahead of them. Moonlight drew them towards the entrance which was covered with long strands of greenery and vines, subduing the light and screening the cavern from view. The only evidence that the cavern was there was the cloudy water, full of sediment from the caves, rushing out into a lake, swirling into the clear water and dissipating along the edges.

  Jerrol peered through the fronds, blinking in the bright glare of the moon flickering through the trees. All he could see was moss-covered trees, trailing more vines. Trees covered the lakeside as far as he could see. There was a strong smell of leafy ferns and vegetation which was welcome after the dead mineral-infused air they had been breathing underground.

  They dragged themselves out of the water onto the bank and lay there shivering for a moment. Jerrol opened his eyes as he felt Birlerion stir. Marguerite stood before them.

  Birlerion rose, his clothes dripping, and a slow smile spread over his tired face. His boots squelched as he walked towards her and opened his arms. “Marguerite,” he said as he hugged her. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  Marguerite leaned back in his arms and grinned up at him. “I’ve missed you too,” she said, rising on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. She wrinkled her nose at his wet clothes. “Leyandrii, you need to dry them out,” she said with a small smile.

  Jerrol rose trying not to think of Leyandrii. He had forsaken her as best he could, and her absence ached in his chest. He wondered how much longer she would see the need to forsake him.

  “I have never forsaken you, my Captain,” Leyandrii breathed in his ear, and he jerked back in shock. His left hand throbbed in time with his heartbeat. There were two of them before him; one dark, one fair. Their presence was a physical disturbance in the air and he stared at them in awe. He swallowed as he straightened his shoulders.

  Birlerion gasped. “Leyandrii.” Jerrol winced at the anguish in Birlerion’s voice. His voice sounded so tight, he was surprised he had managed to speak at all.

  Masses of golden hair framed her exquisite face, her green eyes sparkled as she approached them and smiled. “My dearest Birlerion, you have done so well.” Leyandrii embraced him and Birlerion relaxed in her arms. She drew his head down to kiss his forehead. Releasing him she turned to Jerrol. “As have you, my Captain. You know there is only one other Sentinal that is as stubborn as you, and he is standing right beside you. You have never failed me, my Captain,” she said. Her love spread through him like a wave of pure emotion and belonging, and he curled into the sensation as she held him tight, the aroma of roses teasing his nose as she soothed away his distress and exhaustion. “After all, I asked you to forsake me. Thank you for trusting me, and for welcoming me back.”

  Marguerite tutted as she watched them. “I’ve never known two men find such difficult paths,” she said with a small smile. She embraced her sister. “It has been too long,” she murmured.

  They turned to face the Sentinals, their beauty mirrored. Jerrol's mind grappled with the fact that two of their world’s deities stood before him. They could have been twins, though Jerrol knew Marguerite to be the younger.

  Leyandrii pouted. “Are you saying I am old?” she asked as Marguerite laughed.

  “N-never, my Lady,” Jerrol stuttered, inordinately soothed by their gentle teasing. Birlerion watched, amusement softening his face.

  “I think I’ll have to steal him. You have a Captain already,” Marguerite baited her sister.

  “No, you won’t. I only said you could borrow him.”

  Marguerite chuckled. “I thank you for your service, Oath Keeper, but the Lady’s Captain is needed to finish the job.”

  Jerrol bowed. “My Ladies,” he said, overwhelmed.

  “He’s good. You sure I can’t have him?” Marguerite suggested slyly.

  The Lady smiled. “Welcome home, Captain. You cannot shoulder the burden of saving everyone; that is my burden to bear and my grief when we fail, and do not mistake, we will fail. We can but try our best to make this world a place for all to live in peacefully.” Leyandrii held her hands out to Jerrol and Birlerion. “Come,” she said as Marguerite completed the circle.

  Leyandrii smiled and their surroundings shifted and they reappeared under Chryllion and Saerille’s tall sentinal trees in the Stoneford Grove. Leyandrii released their hands and peered up at the trees, trailing her fingers across the bark of the nearest tree. The canopy shivered in response and she whispered a greeting.

  “Did it work?” Jerrol asked after a long moment.

  “Oh yes, my Captain. The way is open, and now for the final act. The Ascendants make their way to Oprimere. They intend to welcome their ancestors now you have breached the Veil. They seem to have forgotten that if their Ancestors can return, then so can I.” The Lady’s smile was sharp. A soft chime resonated through him, and he knew the new waystone Leyandrii had just created would take him to Oprimere if he so desired. “My sword and my shield united once more. I thank you both for your trust, your dedication and your belief. Together we will rid this world of this terrible threat.”

  “Why bring us here, to Stoneford, then?” Birlerion asked. “Shouldn’t we be in Oprimere too?”

  “You have time to catch your breath.” Leyandrii inspected him. “And a bath.”

  “And even eat,” Marguerite interjected. “Why is it that you never find time to eat?”

  Leyandrii chuckled. “Rest for a few chimes, Birlerion, before you return to the battle. There is nothing more either of you can do until the Ascendants reach Oprimere. You have both done enough.” She patted his cheek and turned to Jerrol. “More than enough. Know that I will always be with you,” she said, and she and Marguerite were gone.

  Jerrol and Birlerion stared at each other for a moment. Their pristine uniforms shimmering in the fading moonlight as the sun began to breach the night. Leyandrii had obviously thought they wouldn’t take the time to bathe.

  The flush of the bloodstone and the comforting weight of the Lady encompassed Jerrol. Leyandrii’s blessing hovered in the air, and he smiled grimly. It was time to finish this.

  52

  Stoneford Keep, Vespiri

  Jerrol and Birlerion hurried up the road to Stoneford Keep. Jerrol had forgotten how far the waystone was from Jason’s home, and he idly thought about moving it but forgot the idea as Saerille blocked his way. Her eyes gleamed in the torchlight. She had her broadsword strapped across her back and a short sword at her waist; she looked ready for battle.

  “Captain, I couldn’t reach you, and the king is about to explode. The Veil, Captain, it’s been breached. We need to patch it up.”

  Jerrol’s smile was a little strained. “I’m sorry, things have been a little hectic. We’ll deal with the Veil in due course. Don’t worry about it, and don’t try to fix it on your own. First, take us to the king. I need to speak to him.”

  Saerille grabbed Birlerion and then pulled him into a heartfelt hug before she let him follow Jerro
l.

  Jerrol paused on the threshold of Jason’s study. Even at this early hour of the morning, there was a mass of people all talking at once; how anyone could think in all that noise was beyond him. The voices began to die out as the people inside caught sight of him in the doorway. Jerrol dreaded to think what they saw. Their stunned faces didn’t bode well.

  King Benedict slowly stood. “Everyone out. I need to speak with Commander Haven alone.”

  Jerrol moved out of the doorway, but he caught Jason’s arm. “Stay,” he murmured, saddened at the sight of his friend’s careworn face.

  Jerrol moved to the table and pulled the map towards him. “Oprimere is here,” he pointed to a spot to the west of the plains. “According to Niallerion, the Elothians will funnel down the Vesp valley and try to swing behind us. The grand duke has sent relief to replace the generals and withdraw his troops, but it will take time, and the generals are eager.”

  “Jerrol,” the king said.

  “The second advance will be on the Watch Towers. They intend to sweep through Stoneford and up behind the Stantons. There is no way to prevent it even though the Ascendants no longer need the towers.”

  “Jerrol stop; what has happened to you?” The king’s voice was soft, and he stared at him as if he didn’t recognise him. Jason was watching him, his concern also obvious.

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m so sorry, Your Majesty. I couldn’t stop the generals. The grand duke has ordered their removal, but it won’t happen in time to stop their advance. I must get to the front, see what we can do. But we found the location of Oprimere.”

  “Jerrol, of course it matters. Stop a moment, sit down.”

  “There isn’t time. I have to get to the front. Jason …”

  “Enough, sit down.” The king glared at him until he stilled and silently sank into a chair. Even then, he fidgeted, driven by a need that was beyond King Benedict’s understanding. “Tell us,” he said, his voice gentle.

  “It makes no difference. I’m here now. We need to make plans.”

  “We know what we need to do. The men are in position. Tell us.” The king was implacable.

  Jerrol sighed, his resistance suddenly fading. He dropped his face in his hands, and the king’s eyes widened as he caught the sparkle beneath Jerrol’s skin.

  “It has happened as was foretold,” Jerrol said. “Var’geris tried to kill Taelia. The flame was extinguished, just not the way I was expecting. I found the final piece.” He opened his hand and what was once a steady glow now sparked and spangled in the air in front of him, making his skin sparkle brilliantly in response.

  He closed his fist as Jason gasped. “What final piece? Jerrol?”

  “The Bloodstone, it sits within me, runs through my veins, desperate to reach the Veil. But it’s not time,” he said, his silver eyes distant. He shimmered before them, his body blurring a little around the edges.

  “Jerrol?”

  King Benedict’s sharp voice brought him back to the room, and he looked at the king. “I tore the Veil.”

  The king nodded. “Saerille and Fonorion said.”

  “We have to go to Oprimere. It is the final meeting place. Tor’asion will already be there. It’s the only way to stop this senseless fighting.” He suddenly stilled, and his luminous eyes widened as the solution came to him. “I have to stop them all.” He stood. “I know what I have to do. I have to get to Oprimere.”

  The king rested his hand on Jerrol’s arm. “Take care if you can,” he said simply.

  Jerrol nodded, gave Jason a swift hug, and he left the room, calling his Sentinals. His voice issuing instructions echoed down the hallway as Benedict followed him to the door. He turned as Jason spoke behind him. “We’re going to lose him, aren’t we?”

  “I fear we already have,” the king replied, turning back to the empty door.

  “Birlerion with me, we’re going to Oprimere,” Jerrol commanded.

  “Leyandrii said wait,” Birlerion protested as he followed. “We should wait, eat. Just one chime, Jerrol. We haven’t stopped. We’ll be safer waiting here than in the middle of a battlefield.”

  “True,” Jerrol sighed and rubbed his face. “It doesn’t seem right though. We should be doing whatever we can to stop this.”

  “And we will, when the time is right,” Birlerion replied. He coaxed Jerrol down the passage towards the kitchens and pushed him into a seat at the kitchen table.

  The aroma of fresh baked bread made Jerrol’s stomach growl and he flushed. He didn’t think he would be able to eat but once the food was in front of him, he realised he was starving.

  Birlerion was on his second bowl of stew before Jerrol had finished his first. “When did you last eat, Birlerion?”

  “Don’t remember. Using magic makes you hungry. It drains you if you use it for too long.”

  “Have you always used magic? What is it that you can do?”

  “Leyandrii taught me how to use my shield. It’s defensive, for protection.”

  “So I saw. What else?”

  “It’s all connected to the control of magical energy. I can compress the energy into a flame, or the onoffs, things like that. Once you seal the Veil though, I expect I won’t be able to do it anymore. We’ll see.”

  Jerrol eyed Birlerion as he shivered. He wondered if Birlerion was as confident as he made himself out to be. He had been through this once before and come out confused and he thought, probably traumatised. Without argument, he was about to do it again.

  Jerrol sighed out a breath, his stomach beginning to regret the food he had eaten. There was no point worrying about it. The confrontation would happen, and they would face it, together. Finishing his stew, he saw Birlerion had finally stopped eating and gave him a tired grin. He rotated his shoulders to ease the aches and pains he was slowly collecting. His back muscles twinged in protest, and he tried not to wince.

  Birlerion leaned back in his chair and met Jerrol’s eyes. “Ready?” he asked, some of the strain dropping from his face as he gave Jerrol an encouraging smile.

  Love for his friend rushed through Jerrol. Birlerion was prepared to stand by his shoulder without question. He was so thankful. He didn’t think he would be able to succeed without him. “Do I have a choice?” Jerrol asked with an equally tired grin.

  Birlerion laughed. “Suppose not. One more time, eh?”

  Jerrol rose and gripped his shoulder. “One more time,” he agreed. “Thank you, Birlerion.”

  Birlerion’s eyes flickered at the emotion in Jerrol’s voice but he just nodded and rose. “Let’s get out of here before the king realises we’re still here.”

  Jerrol and Birlerion entered the Stoneford waystone without being accosted and stepped out in the middle of a battlefield. The noise was horrendous as men fought on the open plains. The thunder of hooves preceded the darting runs of a Vespirian mounted regiment. Horses squealed, swords clashed, officers yelled orders and in the confusion Jerrol and Birlerion managed to skirt the worst of the fighting.

  A raised plateau ran down the middle of the battlefield, adorned by broken plinths and columns, collapsed walls and fragments of grey rock. Some of which Jerrol was sure had been used to bolster the array of barricades the Vespirians had erected to slow the Elothian advance.

  The Vespirian engineers had been busy, instead of trying to dig into the frozen ground they had built barriers of snow and ice to force the Elothians away from Stoneford and towards the mountains. The mounted regiments were herding them away from the open valleys leading into Deepwater and Stoneford.

  The plateau acted like an island in the middle of a river with the battle flowing down either side and the island ignored. Climbing the frozen slopes took a matter of moments and they hid behind the broken masonry on the southern end.

  Jerrol focused his thoughts and brought the image Leyandrii had given him to the fore, and the land began to tremble. Large blocks of grey stone began to rise from the ground, pointing skywards at various angles as they formed a
ragged rectangle. The ruins rose into the Mother’s cathedral in Jerrol’s eyes, the towers and spires rising above him, crowned by the gilt-covered dome. A sense of soothing peace enveloped him, and he sighed as the vision faded, leaving the remnants of the magnificent cathedral before him on the raised plateau.

  Jerrol’s face tightened at the sight of the battle raging in the pre-dawn gloom, the king’s army in their grey uniforms and the Chevrons in their red and blue. He couldn’t stand aside and let them kill each other. They were all good men. They should be living together in peace, returned to their everyday lives, instead of being conscripted into the industry of death.

  He racked his brains desperately, his desperation fuelling the anger simmering within him. He turned to Birlerion, his voice tight. “Can you erect a barrier? Keep them apart?”

  Birlerion stared at him for a moment and then out over the battlefield. “There will be some that get caught on the wrong side but it should keep most of them apart.” His shoulders tensed as he raised his hands and twisted his wrists before compressing his palms. As he rubbed them together, a blue sparkle flickered over his skin, and the Captain’s sword still strapped around Birlerion’s waist, vibrated on his hip in acknowledgment of whatever Birlerion was doing.

  Jerrol observed the glow emanating from Guerlaire’s sword as Birlerion lovingly caressed the sparkle between his hands and shaped it into a ball and then stretched it between his hands. He threw the ball of energy at the battlefield. A shimmering blue haze appeared, separating the two armies from Stoneford all the way to Deepwater.

  “Now, Marguerite,” Birlerion murmured.

  The battling men halted in surprise, trying to keep their balance as the ground beneath them buckled and forced them apart. The rising ground pushed the barrier up into the air, and then the men stared at each other through the barrier as it slowly cleared. They found themselves frozen, unable to move; Elothian and Vespiran alike glaring at each other, unable to do anything else. The ground began to tear apart as the soil was forced upwards, forming a wall. If the barrier failed, the men would still not be able to reach each other, but it remained glimmering before them.