The Coravian Conflict (Stavin DragonBlessed Book 5)

by Loren K. Jones

  Stavin’s head tilted to the side as he said, “I thought they were all killed,” in a puzzled tone.

  The major bowed. “She claims she was away from the temple when the Cutter’s followers attacked. She’s very young.”

  “How young is very young, Warvin?”

  Major Zel’Astel smiled as he replied, “About fourteen.”

  “A novice?”

  “She claims she was just raised to Initiate,” the major replied with a grin. “Her robes are the right color for a very junior priestess.”

  Stavin nodded toward the doors and started out with his guards around him. Outside, surrounded by ten guardsmen, was the priestess. She was kneeling with her head bowed when Stavin stopped in front of her.

  “Welcome, Priestess,” he said, causing her to look up, then quickly look down again.

  “Your Highness honors me.”

  Stavin smiled. “Stand, Priestess. Until your superiors in the rest of the kingdom can send you help, you are the Shepherdess of Deltar. You need not kneel to anyone.” The girl looked up again, then stood. Stavin was surprised into exclaiming, “You’re as tall as Mark!”

  The priestess looked frightened and seemed to shrink in on herself. “Your Highness?”

  “My brother-in-law, Markan. You’ve got to be as tall as he is, or nearly so.”

  Karvik chuckled as he cocked his head to the side and grinned at the young woman. “I think you’re right, Your Highness. She’s got me by about two fingers.”

  Stavin shook his head and chuckled. Smiling at the young priestess, he bowed slightly. “How did you escape Lebawan’s attack?” he asked in a gentle tone.

  “I was home, east of town,” she gestured as Stavin nodded. “My sister was sick. When the news came and the Cutter’s priests attacked, I wanted to come back, but my father locked me in the cellar.” She looked at the ground, but from his vantage point Stavin could see how uneasily that action sat with her.

  “Smart man,” Karvik commented, making her glance at him.

  “Yes,” Stavin agreed, drawing her attention back to him. “Shepherdess, I invite you to be my guest for a time. I’ve seen what they did to Lady Sahren’s temple. It will take some time to make it fit to worship in again.”

  The priestess looked at the ground again and a tear dripped from her nose as she whispered, “I saw.”

  Stavin put one hand on her arm and turned her toward the inn. Once they were inside, Stavin signaled the innkeeper over. “This is--you know, I didn’t ask your name,” he said as he looked up at the young priestess.

  “My name is Valleran Fel’Kestel, Prince Stavin.”

  Stavin turned toward the innkeeper and nodded. “Provide the Shepherdess of Deltar a room at my expense.”

  The innkeeper looked startled, then bowed. “As you command, Prince Stavin. Come with me, Val. Let’s get you settled.”

  Stavin watched her lead the girl away, then looked up at Karvik and said, “I have an idea.”

  Karvik looked at his expression and moaned, “Oh, no.”

  Chapter 26

  THREE SPANS LATER STAVIN, KARVIK, AND twenty Evandian Royal Guardsmen were in the Temple of Lady Sahren. “They desecrated everything,” Stavin said as he looked around.

  “This is going to take a while,” Karvik replied as he assessed the situation. “I’ll start over here.”

  Stavin and his guardsmen worked through the rest of the day to clear the broken furniture, shattered statuary, and defiled holy objects from the building. In many places, they found large pools of dried blood caked on the floor. The bodies had been dragged outside by the followers of Lebawan and burned by the Lady’s tree, and the tree with them.

  Stavin led a tired, grim group back to the inn. He looked at Karvik and said, “It’s going to take a lot of effort to make that temple whole again.”

  * * *

  Stavin was sitting with his family, enjoying the evening meal, when Karvik walked over and stopped by his side. “The priestess wants to speak with you, Stave.”

  Stavin nodded. “Bring her over.” Karvik motioned over his shoulder and two guardswomen escorted the young woman to his table. Stavin stood and bowed slightly before asking, “How may we be of service, Shepherdess?”

  She bowed deeply before saying, “Your Highness, I heard what you did. You shouldn’t lower yourself to clean my Lady’s temple. That’s my task.”

  Stavin smiled. “I don’t consider it to be lowering myself, Shepherdess. We follow Lady Sahren in Evandia, and this is a service to our Lady that we can fulfill. Will you join us?” he said as he waved toward the table.

  Karlin immediately jumped up and bowed as he said, “I would be honored if you would take my chair, Shepherdess.” Rahlf took the initiative and removed Karlin’s plate and cup while Sindal went to fetch a fresh plate from the kitchen.

  In just a few breaths, Valleran Fel’Kestel found herself seated at Stavin’s right hand. Stavin bowed in his seat and said, “Shepherdess, may I present my wife, Princess Sharindis, our son, Prince Karlin, and our daughters, Princesses Sahren and Mahren.”

  Valleran looked at the young family, then bowed deeply in her chair. “I am honored to meet you all, Your Highnesses.”

  Shari returned the bow. “Stavin told me what he and the guardsmen have been doing. I think all of us will be going to the Lady’s temple tomorrow.”

  “Princess? The Temple won’t be ready for a long time. There so much was damaged or destroyed.”

  “Which is why we will be there, Shepherdess,” Shari answered with a slight smile. “The cavalry is being occupied by guarding the Cutter’s priests, but we and our people are in need of something to keep us busy. Since most of our guards are followers of Lady Sahren, we will do what we can to set Her temple to rights.”

  The young Shepherdess stared at her lap as tears trickled down her face. “Your Highness, I--” She broke down crying, and little Sahren went around the table to hug her.

  “It’s all right. Please don’t cry. Mommy and Daddy are keeping the bad men away.”

  “Princess?”

  “I’m Sahren. That’s Mahren,” she said as she pointed across the table.

  “Princess Sahren, I’m just so--I don’t know what to do!” she cried again, burying her face in her hands.

  “Let Mommy and Daddy do it. They know how to do everything. They’re Scribes.”

  Valleran wiped her eyes and bowed to Sahren. “Yes, your parents are known for their wisdom.”

  Stavin nodded. “We’ll do all we can to restore Lady Sahren’s temple, but there are a lot of things, holy objects and such, that will have to be provided by your Mother Temple in Moravad. When Lord General Zel’Enred gets here, I’ll ask him to send the request to Moravad with his report.”

  Valleran bowed deeply again and said, “Thank you, Prince Stavin.”

  Sindal returned with a fresh plate for the young priestess, and both Stavin and Shari encouraged her to eat.

  Karlin waited until she was finished before asking, “Shepherdess, how did you become a priestess?”

  She smiled shyly, then said, “One winter, when I was very young, I saw a vision of a lady in white by the river. When I ran to her, I found my big brother had fallen through the ice. I was able to get him out and back to the house because Lady Sahren showed me where he was. When I turned ten, I chose the priesthood as my vocation. I had just been raised from Novice to Initiate when--” She stopped speaking and bit her lips as a tear trickled down her face. “They were the best people I’ve ever known.”

  Stavin reached over and squeezed her hand. “You won’t be alone for long, Valleran. And we’ll stay with you until the temple is whole again. You don’t have to bear this burden alone.”

  Morning found all of Stavin’s party except the twenty members of the night-shift guard team at Lady Sahren’s temple.

  Shari was silent as she walked through, surveying the damage. When she walked out into the cloister and saw the charred stump of the Lady’s tree, sh
e froze and said, “This first.”

  “Princess Shari?” Mohriah Zel’Halvis asked.

  “I remember reading that the temples were built around a living tree, usually a birch or aspen. Grab some strong backs and shovels. The remains of the original tree need to be removed. Then we’ll take our young Shepherdess out and find a new lady tree.”

  “As you command, Princess Shari. With your permission, I’ll approach the Lady Mayor about providing someone for the task. No offense to our guardsmen, but I really don’t think any of them are up to digging up a stump that size. And even if they were,” she chuckled, “they’d never forgive me for making them do it.”

  Shari chuckled as well before saying, “Very well, Mohriah, do as you think best.”

  It wasn’t long before the common folk of the town began stopping in to see what was happening. Most of them left after just a few moments, but a growing number of them began helping. The guards kept a close watch, but didn’t interfere.

  By mid day, the remains of the temple objects had been removed, and buckets of water had been poured over the stains on the floor. Shari caught Valleran’s arm as she passed.

  “Shepherdess, join us for the mid day meal. I think we all need a break from this.”

  The young woman bowed, but her expression was one of extreme sorrow. “How can I eat, Your Highness?” she whispered. “Everything I’ve known for the past four years is gone. My friends, my mentors, my teachers are all gone.”

  “You eat because you must,” Shari replied softly. “You eat to keep your strength up, to show those bastards that you might have been beaten, but you are not defeated. You eat to honor your Lady, so you can tend to Her flock as a nurturer.”

  Valleran broke down, collapsing into Shari’s arms and crying her heartache out while Shari stroked her back. Mohriah stepped toward them, but Shari raised a finger to stop her. This much she could and would do for the girl.

  After some time Valleran straightened and stepped back. “Forgive me, Princess Sharindis. I shouldn’t have done that.”

  Shari smiled softly. “There is nothing to forgive, Valleran. What you have gone through would reduce anyone to tears.”

  “But you’re a princess.”

  “I’m a mother, and you’re really not that much older than my son. It is the way of the Nurturer to offer what comfort you can when it’s needed.”

  Valleran sobbed again, but she was nodding. “Yes, Princess Sharindis, it is.” She wiped her eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. “Thank you, Your Highness. I will serve my Lady. I won’t let the Cutter win.”

  Shari nodded and patted her arm. “Come eat now. We’ll be going into the forest after we eat to transplant a new Lady Tree. You know the rituals, don’t you?”

  “Yes, Princess Sharindis. Selecting the tree isn’t very complicated. And I know of a birch grove that isn’t too far away. That’s what our tree is--was.” She took a deep breath and shook her head. “And will be again.”

  “That’s the spirit. Now go clean up before we eat.”

  After a good, hearty meal, the royal party borrowed a wagon from the inn and headed into the forest. Stavin, Karlin, and the guards rode their horses, but Shari, Valleran, and Sahren and Mahren rode in the wagon.

  The girls were excited and played in the back of the wagon, and quickly drew the young priestess into their game. Shari looked at Stavin and smiled. The twins were bringing Valleran back to the world of the living, one giggle at a time.

  It took nine spans to reach the grove, and Valleran climbed down from the wagon without looking away from the trees. “It should be a young tree,” she whispered, “no thicker than your arm.” She sounded like she was repeating something she’d been told a long time ago.

  As she’d predicted, it didn’t take long for her to select a tree. It was already two man-heights tall, but it was very slender. “This one seems about right,” she murmured.

  Stavin and Karvik were the first to start digging. After a span, two Royal Guardsmen took over. It continued that way as all of the guards, men and women alike, worked to dig out the tree with a good-sized ball of dirt around its roots. Sack-cloth was wrapped around the ball to keep it together, then the tree was freed from the ground and hefted out of the hole.

  Getting the tree into the wagon required a lot more effort than digging it up had, but soon the task was done. By now the twins were getting tired, so the ride back to town was much quieter.

  As they approached the town, the sound of an angry mob could be heard in the distance. Stavin looked at Karvik, then turned toward Karlin.

  “Stay with the wagon,” he ordered, and Karlin nodded in silence as he rode to his mother’s side. Stavin, Karvik, and twenty of the guardsmen rode forward at a gallop. What they saw when they cleared the trees stopped them.

  A large crowd was gathered outside the city, and a surprising array of weapons were evident. Pitchforks, mattocks, scythes, and axes were predominant, but they were by no means the only weapons. Flails and even kitchen knives were there, and Karvik immediately moved in front of Stavin.

  “You stay out of this, Stave,” he ordered, but Stavin wasn’t in the mood to obey.

  “No, Kar. If they want blood, I’ll spill theirs.” Stavin kicked Tru to a run and charged the mob as his Royal Guardsmen struggled to keep up.

  The people outside Deltar turned toward them, but whatever their purpose was, facing what amounted to a squadron of cavalry charging their rear caused them to break up in disarray. People streamed away at a dead run as the Evandian Royal Guards chased their prince.

  One group in the familiar robes of Lebawan’s priesthood stood their ground and Stavin pulled Tru to a stop facing them. “Who are you?” he demanded.

  “I am Shear Priest Jesvan,” the leader said as he sneered in reply. “Who are you to challenge me in Lebawan’s kingdom?”

  Stavin gave him a nasty grin. “I am Dragon Blessed Senior Warmaster Prince Stavin Markan Karvan Do’Kalin Ne’Aniston Zel’Andral of Evandia, former King of Coravia. I’m the one who took Coravia back from the traitor Karvar Zel’Draval and put King Teravan Zel’Darvin back on his throne. Surrender or die.” Stavin looked at the city gates and saw Captain Zel’Corval and his troopers lining the walls.

  Priest Jesvan shouted, “King Karvar Zel’Draval will conquer Evandia and remake the empire in Lebawan’s name!” He raised a pair of long, pointed shears and stepped toward Stavin. Then he fell forward into the dust with one of Karvik’s knives in his chest.

  Stavin turned and looked at Karvik. “Sixty-eight?”

  “Sixty-eight,” Karvik agreed.

  Stavin shook his head, then looked toward the stunned men still at the gate. Of the twelve, seven wore the robes of Lebawan’s priesthood. “You men have the choice of surrendering and being confined until you can be sent to Moravad for trial, or being killed here and now. You have three breaths to decide.”

  “You-You can’t do that!” one of the priests shouted as he stepped forward, then he fell on his face with a cavalryman’s throwing-ax in the back of his head. That was enough for the rest, and they threw their weapons to the ground, then knelt and put their hands behind their heads.

  Stavin nodded and looked at the gates and loudly ordered, “Captain Zel’Corval, take charge of the prisoners. Confine them in the temple with the rest of Lebawan’s filth.” Several of the priests started to object to Stavin’s comment, but the bodies by their knees silenced them.

  Stavin led the way back to the wagon. He stopped Tru beside it and spoke to Shari. “It was some of Lebawan’s priests and their followers who were out of town when we arrived. Most ran like cowards when we rode up, but a group of priests stayed by the gates. Shear Priest Jesvan died with one of Karvik’s knives in his chest and another died with a throwing ax in the back of his head. The rest are being put in their temple with the others.”

  “I know Jesvan Bel’Reldar,” Valleran whispered. “He and my father used to be friends.”

  “He is fa
cing his god now, Valleran,” Stavin said in a gentle tone. “There is nothing to fear from him anymore.” Valleran nodded and turned away from Shari, but her shoulders continued to heave as she cried.

  Shari nodded to Stavin and they continued their trip. At the gate, there was just a patch of mud that marked the priests’ deaths. Shari drove the wagon to the Blue Heron and stopped it at the steps.

  “Come with me, Val. The guardsmen will take the tree to the temple.” She looked at Stavin and nodded, then turned away with Sahren and Mahren right behind her.

  Stavin climbed onto the wagon straight from Tru’s saddle. Karvik caught up her reins and tied them to his saddle horn. A glance between them set the wagon in motion.

  At the temple of the Nurturer, Stavin stopped the wagon and climbed down. “We need to make sure the old tree’s stump is gone. It looked pretty big.”

  Karvik nodded. “Let’s get the new tree out of the wagon and into the temple, then get some more water on its roots. I doubt we’ll be able to do much more than that today.”

  Stavin turned and looked at the young tree and nodded his approval. The guardsmen all joined in, pulling the root-ball to the back of the wagon and carefully sliding it down a plank to the ground. It was when everyone’s attention was on the tree that four men attacked Stavin.

  There was no warning. The men silently raced from the corner of the temple and grabbed Stavin, with the leader wrapping his arm around Stavin’s chest and pressing a knife to his throat. The leader shouted, “Leave off!” as Stavin struggled in his arms. “You’ll not bring the worship of that harlot back to Lebawan’s realm.”

  Stavin stopped struggling and planted both feet on the ground. This time even he heard himself growling, and so did the man holding him. When the attacker’s embrace loosened, Stavin shifted his hips to the side and swung his armored fist down and back into the man’s crotch.

  The man let go of Stavin and folded over in pain, but that just gave Stavin a better target. The armored backs of Stavin’s gauntlets crashed repeatedly into the man’s head.

  The other men stood frozen in their tracks by the sight of their leader, a Priest Inquisitor of Lebawan, being beaten down by a child-sized non-believer. And they died where they stood as twenty Evandian Royal Guardsmen fell on them to protect their prince.