The Record of the Saints Caliber

by M. David White

  Tarquin laughed with cruel mocking. “No, no, little one.” he said, shaking his head, looking at her with those harsh, stormy eyes of his. “The gift you were delivering was yourself. You have all been given to me and Duroton.”

  Nuriel started at this.

  “What’s the matter, Nuriel?” asked Tia, smirking. “Didn’t Isley tell you?”

  Umbrial huffed. “Of course not. Even he knows she ain’t cut out for anything.”

  “She’s supposed to be one of the most powerful Saints,” squawked Tia. “But she can’t even be trusted to be told anything.”

  “It’s a shame,” said Tarquin, looking at Nuriel, that lingering gaze now replacing his sneers. “When Celacia told me about you I was excited. Now I see that excitement was misplaced. At least you’re as pretty as she said.”

  “Don’t judge the rest of us by her,” said Tia.

  “No judgments,” said Tarquin, his eyes still on Nuriel, looking her up and down. She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly uncomfortable with his stares. “The King’s horses were very spirited, just like you.” he said. “Icelandic Great-Hoofs are some of the toughest horses to break. Very spirited and with a will all their own. Training them is something of a hobby of mine. You see, all creatures can be broken to my will.” He winked at Nuriel and the others all sort of laughed.

  He turned to Umbrial. “Take her sword. No weapons in the chamber.”

  Umbrial pushed his way forward and held out his hand, flicking his fingers. “Come on,” he said.

  Nuriel looked at him and bit her lip. There was no way she was giving up her weapon.

  “Don’t be stupid,” said Umbrial, pushing his way past Tarquin and through the door. “Give it up, Nuriel.”

  Outside Nuriel heard Tia, Gamalael and Arric laughing. “No,” said Nuriel. She grabbed her claymore off her back, but it wasn’t because she intended on giving it up.

  “Lord Egret showed you great leniency,” warned Tarquin, brushing his way by Umbrial and coming into the room. “I can assure you he won’t show it again. And I won’t ask for your sword nicely twice.”

  “Just give it up, Nuriel,” quacked Tia. “Apollyon below, why do you always have to be such a bother about everything?”

  “She’s so stupid,” sniggered Arric, and Gamalael laughed.

  “Nuriel…” said Umbrial, urging her to hand over her weapon with his wagging fingers.

  Nuriel bit her lip and backed up a few steps. The room was far too small to fight effectively in. She weighed her options. Deep down, she knew attacking was out of the question. It wasn’t because she was outnumbered. She didn’t fear any of them other than maybe Umbrial and Lord Tarquin, and even they only gave her slight pause. What stayed her hand was Egret’s words. The way he felt to her Caliber. He was a man who knew honor and respect.

  Nuriel exhaled deeply, handing her sword to Umbrial. In her head she knew it was a stupid thought—a silly idea—but if anybody would understand her plight, it would be Egret. And if there would ever be a way for her to be released from Celacia and go back to Sanctuary, it would not be by getting on his bad side.

  “Good girl,” said Tarquin. He grabbed her chin and smiled at her. “We’ll be back for you later. Sit and reflect upon what I told you…that all creatures can be broken to my will.” He released her and looked around. Then those probing eyes of his focused back on her body. “In the Chamber of the Unwitnessed, where the lands of Duroton take no heed.”

  With that, Tarquin and Umbrial withdrew and the door closed with a sort of clank that held a terrible finality to it.

  Nuriel wiped her hands down her face and sniffled. She now noticed that the mirror-polished door had no handle, no latch, no way to open it from this side. She breathed deeply and looked at the lone bench. It was made of wood, well worn and completely smooth. It was an ancient thing, and she got a momentary smile out of herself by wondering how many Durotonese asses it had seen over the years. With a sigh she walked over to it and plopped herself down, her own reflection her only company.

  ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

  A loud, metallic clank echoed in Nuriel’s sleep-dogged mind and she sat up with a start. She didn’t know how long ago she had laid down upon the bench, but based on how tightly sleep gripped her mind, she figured it must have been quite a while. In the mirror room there were no windows, and the steady glow of the gaslamps gave no indication of time passed. There was another loud clank. She rubbed her eyes and looked around. Umbrial, Tia, Gamalael and Arric were all in the room. It wasn’t quite registering in her weary consciousness yet, but there was something about the way they were all looking at her that wasn’t right.

  Nuriel shook her head and rubbed her eyes again. Lord Tarquin was in the room too, she now noted. Those lingering eyes of his were plastered upon her. Part of her was aware that he held some sort of gun in his hand, similar to a bolt-thrower but thinner and lighter. She tried to pay him no attention. “Sorry,” she said, sleep still softening her voice. “I must have dozed off. How long has it been?”

  Gamalael and Arric were giggling. Nuriel was now aware that the door to the room was closed. Umbrial stood before it, his arms crossed upon his chest. Tia was staring down at her with a crooked little smile. “Wakey wakey,” she sneered.

  Nuriel stood up, the fog of sleep instantly lifting, her mind now attuned to the uneasiness her subconscious had first detected. Her hand went for her sword, but it wasn’t there. They had taken it earlier she remembered.

  “There’s my spirited girl,” said Tarquin, his eyes and voice drooling on her.

  Nuriel found herself wrapping her arms around her chest again. Tia was smirking and behind her Gamalael was whispering to Arric and the two were smiling ear-to-ear about something. She sniffled and looked down.

  “I’m glad to see you’re rested,” said Tarquin. Nuriel didn’t bother to look up but she could still feel those heavy eyes of his upon her body. He was wearing his shroud over his armor with the gray spirals around the arms, and in one hand he was definitely holding some type of light bolt-thrower. “It’s a shame you had to miss the discussions, but let me just tell you that me and your friends here have had some time to get acquainted, and it seems we’re all well met.”

  Nuriel had figured that much from the start. Lord Tarquin exuded the same qualities as the other Saints. She sniffled and wiped her nose on her cloak.

  “Why so shy all of a sudden?” Lord Tarquin in his dark shroud stepped over to her. Nuriel flinched and almost tripped backward over the bench when he unexpectedly brushed his hand down her cheek. She looked at him with wide eyes, quite taken aback.

  “You’re a jumpy little thing, aren’t you,” said Tarquin, those smokey blue eyes of his looking down her body.

  Nuriel looked over at her companion Saints. Umbrial stood in the back, looking at her quite indifferently. The other three all sniggered and seemed to be in on something. Nuriel found herself feeling quite small and naked in this tiny mirror room. She took a couple steps back from Tarquin. “Can…can I come out now?” she asked softly.

  Tarquin smiled wide at her, but his gaze slowly fell. “Soon enough,” he said, his eyes lingering on her waist.

  “I want to come out now,” said Nuriel, trying to sound more assertive. “Is your meeting adjourned?”

  “It was adjourned quite a while ago,” said Tarquin. “Me and your fellow Saints had been having quite the conversations. Like I said, it seems we’re all well met.”

  “Where’s Isley?” asked Nuriel, her arms still wrapped around her chest. She really wanted Tarquin’s eyes off her. “Is Lord Egret here?”

  Tarquin tisked. “I’m afraid to tell you that we were having such great conversations that before we knew it, Lord Egret and your mentor Isley had already excused themselves and left for Durtania.” Here Nuriel noticed his eyes widen ever so slightly as they leered at her crotch. “I told them it was a shame they couldn’t stay the night with us since I promised your friends her
e some fun. Unfortunately, duty calls them to the King’s castle. But your duties, my pretty little thing, are to me.”

  Nuriel took another step back and slipped into a more offensive stance. The room was small and there was nowhere for her to go. She steeled herself, ready to make a stand if necessary.

  “No matter though,” said Tarquin. “It’s best my Commander be gone. He doesn’t always condone my methods of motivating the ones under my command. See, he’s used to castle life. Used to giving commands to those of high rank like myself. He doesn’t see the blood on the front lines like me and my men. He doesn’t understand that the rank and file need to be let off their leash once in a while, and how the promise of plunder can make men bolder.

  “But enough of all that,” continued Tarquin. “We need to discuss me and you. Egret may have shown you leniency, but the truth is, you’re my creature. Beneath the Duroton sky Celacia promised you and the rest to Duroton, and King Garidrir himself appointed me the Captain of the Saints Alliance. Whether or not you choose to take any vows beneath the Duroton sky is moot to me. You are my creature, and when I am given a creature, I expect it to behave.”

  Gamalael and Arric giggled at this remark. Tarquin was staring intently at her now. He licked his lips. In his hand he held that gun. At his side was the broadsword with that gray jewel in its pommel. Gamalael, Arric and Tia all drew forth their weapons. Umbrial hung back by the closed door.

  Nuriel readied herself. Her hands balled into fists. She might not have her weapon, but she could certainly acquire one rather quickly.

  “I see you didn’t take your time alone to reflect on what I had told you,” said Tarquin. “All beasts can be broken to my will.” He paused and looked around the room, his own reflections staring back at him in the mirror walls. “And here, in the Chamber of the Unwitnessed where the lands of Duroton take no heed, you can be broken over and over again and no crime shall ever be committed.”

  Nuriel’s eyes narrowed. She looked to the side where Tia and the rest stood with their weapons drawn. Tia smirked at her and flourished her star-metal broadsword, daring Nuriel to make a move. Behind her Gamalael and Arric stood with their swords casually at their sides and Umbrial stood behind them like a towering bear. He looked at Nuriel with his dark eyes and slowly shook his head, warning her not to make her move. It was a warning Nuriel refused to heed.

  With a flare of golden Caliber energy Nuriel dashed in at Tia, spinning on one foot to deliver a star-metal boot to her face. Tia clumsily dodged the kick and lashed out with her sword but Nuriel moved in quick with an elbow to her face, grabbing Tia’s extended arm and twisting free the sword. Then, with a swift spin in the opposite direction, Nuriel delivered a powerful kick across Tia’s face, knocking the woman into the others.

  Nuriel spun around to meet Lord Tarquin. She flared her Caliber and leapt into the air, jump-kicking at the man’s face. In a flash Tarquin waved his sword, and to Nuriel’s surprise, he disappeared. She landed right where Tarquin would have been. She spun around and he was on the opposite side of the room, waving at her.

  “This sword is called Whisper,” he said. “With it, there is no place I cannot be.”

  Nuriel scowled and flourished her sword, but now Tia and the rest were up and none too happy with her.

  “You fucking bitch!” spat Tia. She dashed in at Nuriel, swinging her fists.

  Nuriel ducked the first two and then rolled left and clocked Tia in the side of her face with her own fist. Without looking Nuriel brought her sword up and around her back, blocking Gamalael’s sword. She twisted around, holding his blade down with her own and then quickly brought it up, slicing open his cheek. At the same moment Arric was upon her and all Nuriel could do was quickly parry his attack against her left star-metal bracer and then move in with a quick knee to his stomach. Since his breastplate did not protect his midsection, her armored knee hit him like a wrecking ball and he immediately doubled over and fell.

  Nuriel looked up to see Umbrial bearing down on her but in the tight quarters of the room she had nowhere to move. She tried to bring her sword back up but Umbrial caught her right arm, his massive hand like a vice. She swung at him with her left and he swatted that away, spinning her around and catching her under her neck.

  “Let me go!” growled Nuriel and she surged against Umbrial’s grasp, but the man was like a bear.

  “Relax, Nuriel,” said Umbrial, tightening his grasp, his huge arm moving up toward her neck, causing her back to arch backwards in a slightly painful manner. She flailed her right arm, trying to hit him with her sword, but Umbrial caught her wrist with his free hand and hyper-extended it outward, causing her to scream with the pain and drop the weapon.

  Nuriel flared her Caliber and in an instant she was engulfed in radiant light. She groaned as her right arm fought against Umbrial’s hold. She could feel him tense up, struggling to keep a hold on her, but Nuriel knew she was stronger. Not physically stronger, but her Caliber far surpassed Umbrial’s. She could feel her arm starting to break free from Umbrial’s grasp when Tia snatched up her sword and moved in. The woman’s face was twisted in anger, her white eyes piercing. She bared her teeth and growled as she moved in to stab Nuriel.

  In a flash Nuriel kicked up and delivered the bottom of her star-metal boot right into Tia’s shoulder. Then she brought herself down hard, simultaneously grabbing Umbrial by the back of the neck. As her feet touched the ground she heaved with all her might, throwing Umbrial over her shoulder and crashing right into Tia…just in time to see Arric’s sword was coming down on her head.

  Nuriel rolled and jumped to her feet and in a flurry delivered a number of punches, catching Arric more than once in the face before throwing him against the wall. She turned just as Gamalael, his cheek oozing red blood, came at her. She ducked and Gamalael’s sword struck sparks on the silver floor. He brought his sword up and around and all Nuriel could do was raise both her arms. As the sword struck like thunder against her bracers she kicked out, hitting Gamalael right in the chest and sending him stumbling backwards.

  Nuriel was about to get her footing to face the next opponent when she was suddenly thrown against the wall with a tremendous crash. She hit the floor and rolled to her hands and knees to get up but became aware of the unbearable heaviness she suddenly felt. She cried out as her elbows began to buckle, her head bowing, feeling as through the weight of the very mountain was resting upon her back. She cringed and turned her head. Lord Tarquin was standing there. The bench at the far end of the room was hovering in midair.

  “You underestimate the power of the Knights of the Dark Star.” said Tarquin. “You missed the demonstration me and Egret gave your friends earlier.” Tarquin took a step forward. Nuriel flared her Caliber but could not break free from whatever force engulfed her. She cried out again, willing herself to remain on her hands and knees. She’d be damned by Apollyon before she’d fall on her face.

  “You see, we have the power to manipulate the gravitational forces around us,” said Tarquin. “I can make things light as a feather,” he said, and suddenly Nuriel felt the weight lift from her and she became aware that she was floating a few feet off the ground. “Or I can crush them into dust.” Here Nuriel was slammed back into the floor with a thunderous crash, flat on her stomach.

  Nuriel screamed out. She looked up and saw Gamalael, Arric and Tia all looking at her with hateful eyes.

  “You fucking stupid-ass bitch,” spat Tia.

  Gamalael wiped at his cheek. It was already all but healed but he was still angry over the indignity of having suffered the wound. “You’re gonna pay for that one.”

  Nuriel shined her Caliber as brightly as she could, the energy around her glowing white. She growled as she struggled to her hands and knees, fighting with all she could against the powerful energy field that pinned her to the ground.

  Nuriel could hear the clank of star-metal boots walking to her and bared her teeth and looked up to see Tia. “You think you’re so tough?” sh
e spat. “Why don’t you have a seat?” Tia swung her leg to kick Nuriel in her face, but with a burst of Caliber energy Nuriel sprang up to her knees and caught Tia’s foot. The woman only had a second to look at her with surprise before Nuriel twisted her ankle around, causing her to fall flat on her face.

  Nuriel’s Caliber glowed ever brighter, and she struggled to her feet, her breaths heaving as she did so. A type of rage and anger built inside her. She looked up and Gamalael moved in at her. With a roar Nuriel lashed out, and to her surprise she overcame whatever force Tarquin had been holding her with. Her fist caught Gamalael right in the cheek. She spun around, her boot cutting a gash in his forehead. She charged in at Arric. He moved his sword up but she swatted it from his hand and began swinging at his face and managed to deliver a solid punch right to his eye. Tia was up now and in a second she was on her. The woman blocked a few of her punches, but Nuriel felt the satisfying crunch of bone when she eventually landed a boot across her face.

  Nuriel couldn’t revel in the satisfaction long. She felt a sting in her side. She leapt back to gain some footing, but instead of landing on her feet, she felt her left ankle go limp and she stumbled down to a knee. Briefly she was aware that her eyes weren’t in focus and she looked down and saw the end of a needle sticking from her side. Quickly she pulled it out, fully aware that her fingers found it difficult to get a firm grip on the thing, and the steel barb more or less tumbled from her grasp.

  She shot back up just as Umbrial, Arric and Gamalael came at her. She looked over and the room seemed distorted and warped. In her foggy mind she could make out Tarquin aiming the rifle at her. She saw a flash at the muzzle, but unlike a bolt-thrower, it made very little noise. In the same instant she felt another sting and her hand moved up to her neck, feeling a long needle protruding. It seemed to take her fingers forever to grasp it and pull it out, and no sooner had she done so than she saw Tia charging at her, her frosty eyes mere slits, her mouth twisted in anger.