Order of the Fire Box Set

by P. E. Padilla

“Still, it’s unusual. I have only seen the man in person once in all the years I’ve been in the Order, and I was the Captain of the Black.”

  “He seemed rushed. He indicated that we—including Molara—may not see him again…for a while.”

  He rubbed his chin. “That is ominous. I don’t like it. Assassin demons, you say? I’ve never heard of them.”

  “It seems that most people haven’t. In fact, Valerio said the book that contained three accounts of the demons was one of the most secret books the Order possesses. Even its existence is a closely guarded secret.”

  “Yet he spoke to you and Molara of it.”

  “Yes. He gave the book to her. Let her borrow it for a while. He said some of the other information in it may be useful. He was in a hurry and insisted he needed to leave. He seemed nervous.”

  “Valerio Fiola, nervous? My observation of the man was that he never got flustered. I have heard from many others that it was so. If he was nervous, the rest of us should probably be panicking.”

  Kate didn’t know what to say about that, so she kept silent, watching the captain for what he would do next.

  Achard shook his head as if trying to shake loose his thoughts. “Did he tell Molara not to talk to anyone? Did he swear her to secrecy?”

  “Yes. He did make special exceptions for you and Peiros. And me, of course. Why?”

  “Because we’re going to talk to her.”

  15

  Kate went back to Molara’s area, this time following the captain. When they crossed the secret section of the library to the doorway of her quarters, the Purple glanced up from the book she was still perusing.

  “Oh, you’re back, and you brought Phrixus with you.”

  “Actually,” Achard said, “I brought her. Is it true, the book you got from Valerio?”

  The look Molara gave Kate wasn’t quite disappointment, just as it wasn’t quite surprise. It flashed on her face for a moment before sliding off as if she had decided it wasn’t a big deal after all. She must have recalled that Valerio had given them permission to tell Achard.

  “Yes. Do you want to look at it?”

  “May I?” the former captain asked.

  “Of course. Travada’s little feud notwithstanding, to me you are still the head of the Black. If anyone has a right to look at it, you do.”

  “And,” he said, “Valerio won’t take issue with it? I do not want to get you into trouble.”

  “It’s fine. My understanding is that Valerio let me read this to help us in our fight. He did say you were to be informed. Please do not tell anyone where you got the knowledge you might find there. The book has been kept secret for hundreds of years. It needs to remain so for hundreds more, or at least until Valerio tells me otherwise.”

  Achard crossed the room and sat at the table Molara occupied. “Of course.” He rubbed his hands and then wiped them on his pants, as if they needed to be cleaned before he took hold of the book. It was the first time Kate had seen excitement on the man’s face.

  The two women sat silently drinking tea Molara had made for them. Achard declined the tea, interested only in the book in front of him. He made slight noises as he worked his way through it. Some of them sounded like surprise, but others disappointment.

  Halfway through the book, he looked up and found Molara watching him. “Much of the book is in other languages, ones I have never seen, let alone know. There are even sections in runic languages.”

  “Yes,” Molara said. “It’s not a casual read. I’ve been at it for several hours and still have only scratched the surface. For example, did you know that the Order was disbanded by command of the king in its seventy-eighth year?”

  “What?” The query came from both Kate’s mouth and Achard’s.

  “It’s true,” Molara said. She chuckled when Achard began flipping through the pages. “You won’t find it. It’s in the secret language the Purple use to document things for their eyes only.”

  “Will you tell us?” Kate asked, her hands clasped in front of her like she was praying.

  “Of course. Apparently, at the time, the large firestones did not exist. Even the fortress was still more of a camp and not the huge structure and surrounding city that it is today. The safety of each person was based on their individual firestones. Those were made first until the mages figured out how to create the bigger stones.

  “There were some references about the stones I didn’t understand, but they hardly matter for this tale. The king of Brasea at the time, Albanus, got regular reports of the operation of the Order during that time, and the things he heard displeased him.

  “It seems that there were factions within the Order, some even reportedly suggesting peace talks with the demons. As anyone who knows anything about demons understands, there is no peace with those creatures. The king understood that.

  “The climate within the Order and at Gateskeep got progressively worse. A plot by a group of officers who were actually trying to turn over the camp to a powerful demon lord was foiled.

  “There were deaths, some of them inexplicable. One account reported a member of the Council dropping dead with no apparent cause.” Molara raised an eyebrow at the other two, and they nodded to her knowingly.

  “When the king heard of this, he sent a force of the Brasean army to aid the commanding officers in cleaning the Order of traitors. Skirmishes occurred, and some of the king’s soldiers were killed. Traitors were found and summarily hanged, but the rot had gone deep. The king didn’t know if he had found them all.

  “He was fairly certain he didn’t.

  “In an emotional fit at the news of more of his soldiers being killed, the king penned the command to disband the Order of the Fire. In it, he stated that the rest of the world could look after themselves. He would recall the soldiers of the Order, and they could protect Brasea. He sent a copy of the mandate to Gateskeep along with an entire regiment of the kingdom’s army, more than two thousand soldiers, enough to defeat the entire Order if they rebelled.

  “You have to remember that there were not the numbers of Order soldiers there are now. The king had to empty half of his own soldiers’ barracks to muster the force, but he did so.

  “A couple of days after the message—and the army carrying it—left the capital city, the queen found out about it and spoke to the king. She eloquently reminded him of his own service to the Order when he was younger and appealed to his sense of duty. Some of the king’s relatives, an uncle and a cousin, at the very least, were in the Order at the time. She painted a picture of what it would look like if they refused to leave their post or, even worse, if they did so. Demons would run rampant across many nations, and even if his own would be safe at first, they would soon lose the world.

  “When all was said and done, the king penned an annulment of the command and sent fast riders with multiple copies to Gateskeep. When the first messenger arrived, it was less than an hour after the army had gotten there.

  “So, technically, the Order of the Fire was disbanded for that hour, though no real action had been taken to evacuate Gateskeep.”

  Molara put her hands on the table in front of her and smiled at her two friends.

  Her smile dropped off her face when she noticed Kate’s expression.

  “What’s wrong, Kate?” the Purple asked her. “Is there something about the story you find disagreeable?”

  Kate stared at a spot on the table in front of her for a moment before answering. When she did, her voice was soft, barely above a whisper. “Is this what I spent my whole life pursuing? An organization with a history of betrayal and in-fighting, plots and schemes, dishonor?

  “I always imagined Order soldiers as honorable, a step above knights, warriors who sacrificed all for the greater good. In the last few weeks, I have heard several historical accounts of dissension. I decided that it was human to argue. All well and good.

  “But to hear about actual warfare between Order personnel, to the point where it was so bad the kin
g disbanded the entire organization? The worst is that some in the Order, some even of the Guiding Council, willingly tried to give the entire world over to the demons.

  “This is what I have wanted my entire life, to be part of a gang of dishonorable traitors?”

  “Now, Kate, don’t be so hasty,” Achard said. “It’s true, there have been less than desirable occurrences and actions. It’s true that we are most likely going through another of these times right now. The important thing, though, is that there are still those who uphold the honor of the Order. You are one. So is Molara, and Peiros, and Koren, Bernar, Aurel, Visimar, Benedict, and the list goes on.

  “Please, don’t judge everyone on the actions of a few.”

  Kate looked at her commander with liquid eyes. What he said was reasonable, but she was in no mood to be reasonable. She just needed some time to think. Alone.

  “I…I have to get some air. I will see you later.”

  She got up and crossed the room to leave, but Molara spoke before her friend left. “You know we can talk about this, right? If you want to discuss it, I’ll be here.”

  Kate nodded and headed out into the open air again.

  16

  For several days, Kate dwelt on what she had heard. She did her duty, staying with Achard most of the time each day, but they talked of little, inconsequential things. She even kept Molara at arm’s length. Time seemed a blur, each day a sad copy of the day before.

  Five days after Valerio’s visit, and Molara’s story about the Order being disbanded, the warring thoughts inside her threatened to tear her apart.

  “I need to go for a walk,” she told Achard, who was reading in a chair in the library. It felt like the air had turned to stone and was crushing her inside the building.

  Kate walked for some time, ending up at her favorite vantage point on the wall of the east tower. She looked out over Gateskeep, a spike of pain afflicting her heart. This was supposed to be her home, the place she had dreamed about getting to her entire life.

  Turning, she could see the plateau and the gate, glowing in its darkness. She never had figured out how it could seem to glow, but in reverse, sucking in all the light around it so that it radiated a penumbra instead of being limned in light.

  The token force of Reds was at the wall. Even from this distance, she could see how lax discipline had gotten. Instead of standing straight and at the ready, most of the soldiers slouched. Some even leaned on the supports for the officers’ platforms.

  Some officers would not allow that, of course, but a surprising number did. All of it made the pain in her heart that much greater.

  Which was worse, the Order seeming to fall apart in front of her eyes or the fact that she was secretly fighting against it? Was she truly a traitor, or was she as some of the Black, including the captain, had labeled her, a hero?

  She didn’t feel very hero-like at the moment.

  What if everything the Order supposedly stood for was a lie? What if the stories of betrayals and dissension were the norm, not the exception?

  Even more importantly, what was she to do? She didn’t want to be a traitor, but she didn’t want to simply go along with an organization that would sell out all humanity to the demons either. Were there more choices than just two?

  Besides, she was just one person. How could she hope to have an effect? She couldn’t take on the whole Order herself.

  But then, she didn’t have to.

  She thought of her friends. Molara, the captain, Aurel, Koren, even Wilfred. They were committed to the ideals of the Order. Weren’t they?

  Her ponderings were interrupted by shouts and a flurry of movement below. It looked like it was near the Black barracks.

  Kate moved along the walkway of the tower battlements to get a better look. From her vantage, it appeared like a swarm of ants that had been agitated into motion. People revolved around a central group.

  And in the center of the group, there was someone dressed entirely in black.

  She moved with the crowd. Once it was clear they were heading toward the Command Center, she took off running to get down from her perch. The uncomfortable feeling in her chest was a swarm of wasps swirling and stinging. While she had never seen one herself, what was happening below looked like descriptions of a lynch mob.

  When she got down to ground level, it was all Kate could do to push her way through others to make it to the doors of the Command Center. It took entirely too long for her to get there, and by the time she did, the doors were closed fast and the crowd was dispersing.

  “What happened?” she asked a Red near her. The man sneered at her, turned, and disappeared in the crowd. The next three she asked, two more Reds and one Blue, similarly gave her no information.

  She was ready to grab the next person she asked to make them tell her when something else caught her attention.

  “Kate? Kate. Pretty Kate.” Aurel’s booming voice washed over her like warm bathwater. The huge man’s shadow followed.

  “Aurel, what happened? I saw a crowd of people, and there was someone in black at the center.”

  Her friend’s brown eyes grew sad. “It was Captain Achard. They took him.”

  “The captain? They? Who, Aurel? Who took him?”

  “Some of the guards. They found him in the regular section of the library and told him he was to report to the Command Center. They escorted him. He did not fight.”

  “Fight?” she said, her thoughts swimming. “Why would he fight?”

  “We think he knew they would come for him eventually,” Koren’s voice answered. He was a dozen yards away, moving toward them. “He expected something, though he wouldn’t tell me exactly what.”

  “But, but…” Kate stammered.

  “It’s all we know,” Koren said. “Still, any further talk should be done in our own barracks. Too many people are close.” He glared at a few of those loitering around, causing them to develop a sudden interest in other things.

  The three headed back to their own section of the fortress, picking up a few other Black along the way. When they got to the barracks, there was another surprise.

  Three full squads of guards in red stood by while most of the rest of the Black stood milling around.

  “What is this?” Koren asked one of the Red sergeants.

  “You are to stay here, Black,” the man spat, “until all of you are gathered. Major Travada will address you once everyone is accounted for.”

  Kate noticed one of the guards with paper and a portable writing desk carefully marking something down as he inspected each new arrival.

  “We’ve been here for almost half an hour already,” Visimar said with a nod to the newcomers. “No one knows anything, just that Travada commanded that all of us assemble here. We’re only missing three or four at this point. They have runners looking for the others. We’re not hard to pick out of a crowd, so it won’t be long now, I think.”

  “Does anyone know what happened with the captain?” Kate asked, but before anyone could answer, the Red with the papers nodded to the sergeant.

  “Attention!” the sergeant shouted. The guards sloppily made ranks and stood at the worst impression of soldiers at attention Kate had seen since Wilfred on the first day of training.

  “That means all of you, too, Black!” the man said, red-faced.

  All he got were some raised eyebrows. Even Kate had no desire to follow the man’s order.

  Major Aedmund Travada stepped up onto a makeshift platform consisting of several crates grouped together and stacked. He frowned at the guards, and the expression deepened when his eyes came to rest on the Black, leaning on whatever was available or sitting on the steps of the barracks building.

  He stood rigid, as most career officers did, though the image was ruined by the belly that protruded from his otherwise thin frame. He dipped his greying head as if making a show of looking down on the crowd.

  He cleared his throat loudly when no one seemed to be paying attention. “Ahem. I
have called you together to make an announcement.”

  Kate wondered if it had something to do with Captain Achard. She thought of asking, since Travada was looking right at her, but then she realized she didn’t need to. Of course it had something to do with the captain.

  “Some of you may have noticed,” Travada continued in his nasally voice, “that Lieutenant Phrixus Achard was summoned to the Command Center not an hour past. He was escorted by guards, for his safety as well as that of others.”

  Kate looked to Koren, but he gave her a shrug. Scanning the faces of the other Black, she realized none of them knew what had happened.

  Travada was speaking again. “For his folly in bungling the leadership of the Black Command, Achard has been dishonorably discharged from the Order of the Fire.”

  “What?” Koren said, perhaps a bit too loudly.

  “You will remain silent as I make my announcement, Koren Merklen,” Travada spat, red-faced. “It is such attitudes that make the Black such a waste of resources. Give mediocre soldiers a bit of freedom and they forget all discipline.

  “As I was saying, Phrixus Achard has been discharged and is even now on his way back to the capital city. You’ll not be seeing him again, not at this fortress. As for the rest of you in the Black Command, you will want to pay special attention to my next announcement.

  “From this moment, the Black Command no longer exists. There is no longer a special forces division of the Order of the Fire. You will all see the sergeant after I am finished speaking, and he will give you your new assignments. You will report for duty by this evening and assimilate into the main body of the Order. We will make you useful yet.”

  Major Travada smiled out at the crowd in front of him, most of whom wore expressions of shock. “Oh, and Courtenay, you will report to my office in half an hour. You needn’t talk to the sergeant; I will give you your assignment myself.”

  With a firm nod, Travada stepped off the temporary platform and fled toward his office.

  Kate met Koren’s eyes, then Aurel’s, Peiros’s, Visimar’s, and Benedict’s. Theirs were all wide, and all but Koren stood with mouths open. The older man gritted his teeth and darted his eyes toward the retreating figure of Major Travada. His fingers clenched and moved toward his sword.