The Chalice

by Paul Latham

  "Pointless," Velar snapped. "This is pointless."

  "No, this is power."

  "No, this is pointless. Killing, scheming to generate the illusion that one person has the right to rule another. It's all an illusion."

  Khurin nodded. "Very true."

  "Then what right-"

  "Rights?" Khurin spat. "There are no rights except those you secure for yourself. Those who rule delegate rights to those who lack the strength to seize the rights for themselves. And how you delegate those rights dictates nobility. That should be the hallmark of a ruling body. No one is born to it. It is the strong over the weak."

  "My Teacher," Velar said.

  "He was weak."

  "He taught me, he trained me." Velar pushed fingers through his long hair. "He rescued me from the street."

  "He revealed your potential."

  "Potential for what? To be a warrior? A knight of Anocren? What does that mean now? What is duty? And honor?"

  "Your duty is to destiny," Khurin said, flatly. "And you take too much stock in notions of honor. Honor is living with yourself. Nothing more or less. You've risen above so much now. Your sense of duty could serve millions. Your sense of honor could guide all that serve you and beyond." He leaned forward. "The situation is ripe, Velar. You know what must be done."

  "No! I don't!"

  "You have the opportunity to secure the thrones of two noble houses."

  "I don't."

  "You do."

  "You will not have me."

  "Put that aside. The truth is I am not sure I could have you. But think on this. You can rule. Or you can run. You can end all wars and give the people freedom and a better life. Or you can hide in the green among the hills ignoring your talents."

  Velar sat silent. The blood under Teacher's head pooled, flowed to the edge and fell. So much blood.

  He closed his eyes and pushed his anguish aside. He pulled the Chalice from the strap that secured it to his belt and placed it gently on the table between them. He probed it with his mind and found it empty. The Last Warrior King resided on the edges of Velar's mind. The battlefield belonged to him now.

  The Order approached from the south. Eshlex sat ready to the east. The Chancellor’s army would have remained in Sareon with some elements moving towards Eshlex as a precaution. He put a great deal of faith in the Order. Velar let the involved parties settle onto a game board in his mind and began moving pieces and testing outcomes.

  And every outcome was war and blood.

  He slowly opened his eyes and they settled on the Chalice. Would there be war without this thing? Could he destroy it and end all this?

  In his mind the Chalice settled on the board and all the factions turned to face it. On the board, the Chalice became amorphous, nothing more than a concept or an idea. Destroy it and it still held sway. Move it and all the factions still followed.

  There would be war.

  And now he had to decide if it would be his war.

  He put himself on the board. He stood next to the Chalice and its shape solidified and became smaller. Or he stood taller. The focus of the factions shifted from him to the Chalice and back again.

  He would have to make a show of force. He would have to make them understand his path. He stood even taller on the board and the Chalice took its real shape and settled into his hand.

  It would be his war. But it wouldn't be a war that would swallow the lands. He would contain it and keep all the factions focused on him.

  "Yes," Khurin said, pounding his fist soundlessly on the table. He leaned forward. "We are not that different Velar. I lived on the streets. I learned to fight and when the opportunity revealed itself I took it. I crushed nobles and gave the common man a right to live, a reason to live."

  Velar nodded slowly. "But did you want to?"

  Khurin shrugged. "At the time it seemed as though I had no choice."

  Velar nodded and turned away.

  "Someone's coming," Khurin said.

  Shilandra came scurrying down the stairs with a sheathed sword. "Someone's coming," she said.

  Velar took the sword from her and strapped it on.

  "How many?"

  "Three," she said. Her eyes darted to the slumped body of Teacher. "What happened?"

  Velar ignored the question and walked to the door. Three men stood in the street. Two knights on either side of a short man, balding but richly dressed.

  "Shilandra," Velar said and turned slightly to find her at his side. "Who is he?"

  "Malorn," she said, squinting into the sunlight. "High Regent of Eshlex. And I think that's his commander of forces, to his left."

  Khurin chuckled. "Easy enough."

  Velar nodded.

  “Shilandra?”

  “Yes?” Her voice crackled with anxiety.

  “I need you to tie my hair back.”

  “Now?”

  He nodded. “And answer me this.”

  Worry filled her eyes. “Yes?”

  “Are you truly with me?”

  She hesitated for only a second, but then nodded.

  “Then you must listen carefully.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Akeil stepped strong, his head high. Shilandra, her expression stern, rode the palfrey on his right. She had listened to his reasoning, looked at the men in the street and slowly nodded.

  “If you just give it to them and we left, war would follow.”

  Velar nodded. “And there is no honor in that.”

  “They may just attack.”

  Velar nodded again. “But they may understand. And the war may be short. It really depends on how many men Eshlex have fielded. And who is left in Eshlex.”

  Shilandra almost smiled. “If the regent is here along with his commander, then no one but bureaucrats. They have the same issue that Sareon has. The regent is old, and the line of succession is frail. That's why they are so desperate for a symbol of power.” She turned to him. “But that's you, now, isn't it?”

  He shrugged. “It will be. If I strike hard, create a void and fill it.”

  Shilandra nodded. “I see the sense of it. And I am with you. Let's tie your hair back.”

  So, his scar blazed in full view as they approached the ranks of the Order. Colmar, the Chancellor and Jocaris arrayed themselves before them.

  The presence of Rolarik would make things simple. Almost ridiculously simple.

  Destruction is simple.

  Khurin remained silent. The silence could signal consent, or he could be waiting until he could put faces to the pieces on the board.

  They arrived at a speaking distance and Velar drew up and Shilandra gave him only a little space. Her allegiance appeared obvious.

  The expressions on the three men amounted before them amounted to confusion perhaps trepidation. They could see much from where they stood. Velar's armor was missing and, in its place, simple chain mail. A head dripping blood dangled from his saddle on one side and the Chalice was visible at his belt on the other. Confusion and trepidation seemed warranted. As he had hoped.

  Next came the issue of who would speak first. Velar thought to give them the advantage but he decided against it. Initiative could be everything before the day was done.

  “General-Elite Colmar,” he said, his voice strong. “On my honor I have returned to you alive.”

  Colmar's horse stomped and the general merely nodded in response.

  “Lord Chancellor Rolarik,” Velar continued. “On my honor, I have brought you the Chalice.”

  The Chancellor remained silent, his face twisted in pain and confusion. Velar realized he must be tied to the saddle and the trip would have been long and hard on his brittle body.

  Velar cast a glance to the north and the growing dust clouds just over the horizon. He had left one man alive to tell the tale to the armies of Eshelx. He returned his attention to the men and met Colmar's hard gaze.

  “Have the scouts returned?” Velar asked.

  Colmar nodded. “What ha
ve you done, Velar. And where is your armor?”

  “My armor was devoured by the beast that guarded the Chalice,” he replied almost casually. “And I have only done what was necessary.”

  “What's gotten into you, boy?” Rolarik snapped.

  Velar pointedly shifted his eyes to Jocaris. “Indeed,” he said. “What could have gotten into me?”

  Jocaris paled. “It's not possible.” he stammered.

  “What?” Colmar demanded. “What's not possible?”

  So Jocaris had known. Or at least had known it was a possibility.

  “Enough!” the Chancellor screamed. “Enough of this! Give me the Chalice.”

  “And if I do our contract is done and settled?”

  “Yes, yes! Give it to me and we are done.”

  Velar met Colmar's eyes again and the General stiffened. Velar felt unaccustomed to such subtleties, but he felt Khurin's wisdom seeping into the edges of his consciousness. He needed it to survive this, but he mourned his innocence.

  He reached down and untied the Chalice from his belt and passed it to Shilandra. She took it with an air of reverence, holding it by the stem with the other hand under the base. Urging the palfrey forward, she delivered the Chalice to the Chancellor who reached for it with flexing fingers like a child reaching for a toy. Shilandra returned immediately without even a glance at Jocaris. Her loyalty was a comfort.

  “Send the scouts to Malorn and tell him that he must negotiate,” the Chancellor said.

  Colmar looked at him. “Because we have that?” Derision edged into his voice. The Chancellor jerked his gaze to his general-elite.

  “Because we have the Chalice, yes,” he said. “The noble houses will respect our right to rule! We have won, and this is done.”

  Velar opened the eye in his mind and saw a tendril of energy that connected his own energy to the Chalice. One pull and it truly was done. He did not know what would happen to the Chalice but his options with Khurin would end. But he found assurances in the security of the power available.

  Colmar did not dispatch the scouts. He stared hard at the Chancellor and the Chancellor met his gaze. Velar took a deep breath. And pulled. The tendril of energy snapped into his body and he felt blinded for a moment. But then the energy settled.

  “Ouch,” Khurin said in the back of his mind.

  Was it done?

  He sighed in relief. His voice was still his voice.

  “Not much has changed,” Khurin commented. “As I feared.”

  Velar nodded to himself.

  The Chancellor panicked as the Chalice dissolved into salt in his hands. “What?” He grasped at the dust and sand and screamed in rage. “We have nothing! Nothing! How can we stand against Malorn?”

  Velar pulled the head off his saddle and pitched it forward. It hit the ground before the Chancellor with a wet thump. Malorn stared up at him, mouth agape.

  “What have you done?” Rolarik wailed. “What have you done?”

  “Let's give them a taste of power,” Khurin said and Velar let the energies flow.

  The battlefield materialized for all them. The skies boiled red and black and the rot and stench rolled on a hot wind. Shilandra had her eyes screwed tight against the horror. He had tried to warn her.

  “Why?” The Chancellor screamed as horses tried to bolt and men shouted. Colmar looked to Velar and then to Rolarik and back again. Then, he drew his sword and removed Rolarik's head in a smooth arc.

  Jocaris spurred his skittish mare.

  “My Lord!” he screamed over the wind. “The Secultariates will serve!”

  Khurin chuckled at center of his mind. He hovered closer to the surface when the power rode high. Velar let the gore of the battlefield dissolve, but the red skies remained. He looked to Colmar, whose horse danced while he let his sword point to the ground to let the blood run off. He had no idea how he looked at the moment, but Colmar seemed unsure and perhaps a bit intimidated.

  He had made his point.

  He let the skies fade to blue. The Order set to reforming their ranks, casting baleful glances at Colmar and Velar.

  Colmar spurred his horse forward. “What now?” he said as he approached.

  Velar smiled. “We are outnumbered?”

  Comar nodded as he finished cleaning his sword with the edge of his cloak. “At least three to one.”

  “I can even things up a bit. And if we move west a bit. We'll have high ground and a guarded flank.” Khurin's wisdom edged forward again. “Who is left in Sareon? And who is in command?”

  “One strike and Olad commands.”

  Velar nodded. “Send scouts and tell them to secure the palace and arrest the council. And send those that can image to me.”

  Colmar nodded. “We have to survive this. But then I'll need answers.”

  “And you'll have them.”

  Colmar nodded and road to the ranks shouting orders.

  Velar sighed. Khurin appeared beside him.

  “Well done, Velar,” he said.

  “We are not done yet,” he replied.

  “No, but it's an auspicious beginning,” Shilandra said. “The battlefield and red sky was a bit much, though. But effective.” She looked up at him. “And that's where you've been spending time?”

  He shrugged.

  “Was it real?” she asked. “Or is it real?”

  “I image. I can make it real.”

  She pursed her lips and remained silent. Jocaris approached and took a position on his left. Velar let him.

  In less than an hour, the strikes found their positions. Their flank secured they watched the army of Eshlex approach. They maneuvered clumsily and Khurin laughed. “Not the challenge I expected,” he said.

  Velar did not reply. Colmar stood nearby. Shilandra and Jocaris had retreated to a higher hill to observe. Velar had wanted her to return to town, but she insisted on staying to watch and record. She was his herald after all.

  “They would not surrender?” Velar asked.

  Colmar shook his head. He did not appear concerned.

  “It's war, then.”

  Colmar sniffed and drew his sword. “It was always going to be war.”

  Velar nodded. He felt others pulling energy, ready to image at his command. They would sow chaos and the strikes would finish it quickly.

  “But is there any honor in this?” Colmar asked. He still did not seem concerned. Merely, curious.

  Velar drew his own sword. “It was my war or their war.”

  Colmar looked at him and nodded.

  “So, there is honor in this,” Velar said as he released the energy.

  “And the honor is mine.”