Carym was awed by the sheer size of the cathedral. Someone nearby, a visitor like himself, mentioned that the cathedral had taken one-hundred years to build, and that it was completed many centuries ago. Scores of people were milling about and they appeared to have come from all over Llars; pilgrims he surmised. What did he hope to accomplish here? He shook his head, feeling overwhelmed. What could he possibly learn here that would aid the companions on this quest?
Gennevera sensed his concern and squeezed his hand. Their bond was growing stronger and he wasn’t sure what to do about it. She was a wonderful woman. She was beautiful and exotic to his eyes and she seemed to care for him deeply. She was a refugee from her past, not unlike himself. And she was so supportive of him, encouraging him. But could they have a relationship? It seemed as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders now, and it was crushing him. He was tempted to forget it all, and just lose himself in his growing love for the dark haired Keneerie woman.
They made their way through the crowded courtyard full of people and walked to the main Temple at the far end of the courtyard. A pair of guards wearing armor similar to that of Sir Ederick’s flanked the wide double doors that led inside. Adorning the left breast of each man was the symbol of an open hand with a perching dove. They were young men, perhaps no more than sixteen or seventeen years of age and barely able to grow a beard. They were stoic and silent, standing at attention as the faithful entered or exited the massive cathedral.
The pair silently entered and Carym was awed by the sheer size of sanctuary. There must be room in here for hundreds, perhaps a thousand people to attend services. There was no service in session, but there were scores of people scattered throughout the pews, praying or enjoying the silence. In all his time, he had never seen a temple to any god so magnificent as this. The dais at head of the chamber held an altar with a large cloth draped over bearing the same symbol of an open hand with a perching dove. Behind the altar was a statue of a man, a very humble yet strong man, standing with a sword before him, point on the ground. The left hand of the statute was resting on the pommel of the sword while the right hand held out at arm’s length with a dove resting in its palm.
“Who is that?” whispered Gennevera.
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen such a thing.”
“Is he the High Priest of your faith?”
“No priest of Zuhr would be so vain as to have larger than life statues made of them. There is something else about that statue, something inspiring. I can’t put my finger on it.”
“My name is Brother LeNoir, is there something I can help you with?”
Carym turned to see a man in a white hooded robe secured at the waist with a belt of golden rope. The open palm symbol adorned the breast of his robe.
“Yes,” Carym said, slowly. “That statue behind the altar, who is that?”
“Ah,” smiled the man. “That is Ulrych, the patron lord of our church.” The monk had a very kind way about him and Carym felt comfortable talking to the man.
“Isn’t Ulrych a god himself? Why would Zuhr’s faithful follow him?” asked Carym, remembering some of his faith lessons.
“You must have been traveling far from here not to have heard the news,” the man said genially. “Let me tell you about the new Church of Zuhr!”
Carym nodded agreement, but said nothing, trying not to display his ignorance. Gennevera was paying very close attention. The monk guided the pair to a pew far away from other visitors so as not to disturb them. The three sat down close to the front
“There have been some great changes in our church of late; prompted, I think, by changes among the gods in the heavens. It is said a war is being waged among Zuhr’s wayward children. We mortals have been wrong all this time. We have worshipped those whom we thought were gods in their own right, but they were really just Zuhr’s children. Do not get me wrong, Ulrych and Zervish and Zerva and Qra’z and Grymm, even Umber, are indeed powerful entities: immortal. Zuhr is the only true God. He is the creator of all things and all peoples.”
“Why did He allow us to worship these other ‘gods’ then?” asked Gennevera.
“Child, there are some mysteries we cannot know. However, Ulrych appeared to our Patriarch and revealed this wondrous news. Ulrych, while not a god himself, is the Patron Lord of our faith, its defender. He is the mighty force in the heavens who will help spread the word that Zurh, his father, is our Father too. Zuhr is the true God.
“I can only surmise an answer to your question. Perhaps in the beginning Zuhr felt that his children could handle the affairs of the peoples whom He created. However, His children were not good stewards. Things have gone amiss in the world and now it must be righted. Zuhr will not tolerate these other pretend ‘gods’ fomenting evil and chaos. It was never His intent for these children of Zuhr to be construed as gods in their own right.
“Ulrych and his sisters, Zerva and Zervish, and even deathly Grymm, have all obediently begun to direct their followers to revere Zuhr as the only true God. Ulrych is our protector. He is the warrior of our God. He is the spiritual leader of Zuhr’s new army and he will battle the dark forces of his wayward brothers, Umber and Qra’z.”
Carym shook his head in wonder and awe. But how did all of this square with his own purpose, his own destiny?
“It has come as quite a shock to many of Zuhr’s followers,” said the monk, understanding Carym’s internal strife. “These changes have been difficult to accept for many. Yet, overall it has been a boon. We have more followers than ever before. And the ranks of the Hand and Sword are swelling every day!”
“The Hand and Sword?” asked Gennevera, intently.
“The Hand is the army of Zuhr, faithful men sworn to protect the church and its followers. Those are the young men whom you saw stationed outside. The Sword is the elite corps of the Hand of Zuhr. They are powerful fighters, devout in their faith and loyal brethren. They are to be tasked with the most dangerous of missions on behalf of the church, and to lead companies and of the Hand in combat.” The monk was pleased that the two were paying him rapt attention. Then he asked, “Are you faithful followers of Zuhr?”
Carym felt a moment’s guilt. He had paid little attention to faith most of his life. It was only recently, when he learned of his new powers, that he had become faithful. And he was not terribly strong in that faith. “I’m afraid I haven’t been the best follower of Zuhr, Brother LeNoir.”
“Ah, nothing to fear!” the man said, reassuringly. “Redemption can be had by anyone, for anything. If only you are truly contrite and confess to our God, Zuhr; he will forgive you.” The monk’s eyes were gleaming now. He was passionate and enthusiastic. “What about you, my child? Do you follow Zuhr?” he asked Gennevera.
The Keneerie woman bowed her head low. “I am afraid not, Brother. I was once a Sister of the Order of Grymm, but I have renounced him. I have no faith.”
“Ah, dear child,” the monk said putting an arm over her shoulders. “Father Zuhr accepts all into his Church. Do not fret, for Grymm is one our God’s own children performing the task given unto him by the Great Zuhr Himself. You must recognize that Zuhr is the true God, the true Creator, and the only one deserving of worship. Grymm is one of many of Zuhr’s great lieutenants.”
“How can you be so sure about redemption? You cannot know the depths of the things I have done,” admitted Gennevera emotionally. Carym was a bit surprised at her tone. He wondered what was so bad that this beautiful woman who had stolen his heart could have done.
The monk smiled kindly at her. “Child, the words come from the great Protector and Patron, Ulrych: ‘All sins may be forgiven’. All. You must renounce all other gods and declare your heart for Zuhr. Then, if you are truly contrite, your sins will be forgiven.”
What a wonderful concept, thought Carym. And though the words of the monk were reassuring, he still wasn’t certain. “What of the Zuharim, Brother? The knights who have defended Zuhr’s faithful for centuries. You have not
mentioned them,” Carym said as he thought of Ederick. The knight had ventured into the city, in search of other knights of his order to gather information.
The monk’s face darkened. “You should not mention them here, in this holy sanctuary. They have lost their way, having delved into the dark magics perpetuated by Umber and his filthy evil demons. It is by order of Patron Ulrych, and therefore the Word of Zuhr, that the Zuharim have been disbanded. They are no more. Some of the faithful of that order have been assimilated into the Hand and the Sword. Others have been arrested.”
Carym looked at Gennevera, and she nodded. They were both concerned for Ederick. What if he was arrested and falsely accused of the heresy that his order had committed? He shook his head. “But, aren’t there faithful Zuharim fighting for Zuhr, in Al Zocar? What of them?”
“Many of those men have lost their way, too. Their hierarchy has been corrupted. They do not fight for the glory of Zuhr, but for their own glory. Some of those fighters are still faithful men, carrying out what they wrongly perceived to be Zuhr’s will. Those who have recognized their errors have been forgiven.”
“Will the Hand of Zuhr go to Al Zocar? To the aid of those who fight there?”
“No. It is not Zuhr’s will that Al Zocar be returned to His faithful yet. More pressing matters need to be dealt with here, on this continent. The forces of evil are massing here and they must be stopped. The Zuharim have been ordered to return, to give up their fight. Alas,” he paused sadly, “in their pride, they have spurned those orders and will fight until they are dead.”
Carym’s stomach twisted with the news. Sir Ederick would not take that well. He feared for his friend, a friend whom he had treated badly of late.
“Fear not,” said the monk, mistaking Carym’s urgent concern. “The return of the First Paladin is at hand, it is written in the Word of the Great Patron, Ulrych. And with the return of the First Paladin, will be the return of Zuhr’s greatness to Llars.”
“Do you mean the Dark Paladin? The one who caused the Sigils to be taken away from the world?”
“The Dark Paladin found redemption in his final moments and was sentenced to guard his own Tomb, and the Everpool. It is said that when his sentence has been served, he will become the First Paladin once more. Only then may another take up the sword and shield of the First Paladin, and lead Zuhr’s armies!” The monk stood and gestured to the couple to remain seated. “I must be on my way, as I have duties to which I must attend. Please, if you ever need to talk, feel free to call on me. I am always here. And,” the monk winked at the couple, “I can perform marriages!”
At that the monk smiled broadly and turned to leave. Carym and Gennevera sat in awkward silence for a moment before Gennevera stood and called to the monk.
“Brother LeNoir!” she called.
The man turned with a smile on his face, “Yes, my child?”
“I would like to offer my service to the Great Lord Zuhr,” she said smiling. She wondered what had come over her. The feeling was strong within her and she knew she had to act before other thoughts dissuaded here. “I want to serve Zuhr,” she said again, firmly. Carym looked at her in surprise, as did the monk. Clearly Brother LeNoir was not expecting that request.
“I see,” he said thoughtfully. “In what way?”
“I want to join the Hand!” she said quickly.
“The Hand? Truly?” he asked, standing beside her once more. “Perhaps another way of service might befit one who has served Grymm, Zuhr’s own keeper of souls.” She looked at him questioningly, clearly not expecting another alternative. Carym stood by her now, intrigued. He too, had been wondering if he should declare himself for Zuhr in some formal way. Surely Zuhr knew that he had Carym in his service now. Did He really need them to say so?
“What other methods of service are there, Brother?” he asked.
“The Sisterhood is an order for women. It is a new order, a missionary order to spread the Word of Zuhr and to minister to the sick and needy. As you can imagine, such is an important responsibility. It is said that many miracles have been performed in the name of the Great Zuhr by those worthy women.”
“What is required to join?” she asked, hoping her nerve would not fail her. The monk smiled and leaned closer.
“Will you declare yourself to His service, body and soul?”
“Yes.”
“Will you ask Him to forgive you, and mean it in your heart?”
“Yes, I beg the Great Lord Zuhr to forgive my sins; they are many and dark.”
“Are you His?”
“I am His,” she said, breathlessly, head bowed.
“Then you are His,” he said with finality. “Return here tomorrow to meet with Mother Renee, the head of your order. You are now a Sister of the Order of the Divine Healer! Congratulations!”
“That’s it?” Carym and Genn asked simultaneously. The monk smiled and nodded and the three shared a quick laugh.
“When you meet Mother Renee, she will equip you and assign you to your new Hand Protector, should you need one.”
“What is a Hand Protector?” asked Carym. He wanted to do as Gennevera did. He wanted to proudly attest his allegiance to Zuhr, to join the Hand; but something held him back. What was it? Perhaps it was just caution. Maybe it would be too reckless to make such a declaration; didn’t he have more to learn about Zuhr before he declared his faith? Didn’t Zuhr have something to prove to Carym?
“They are a cadre of members of the Hand of Zuhr who train the Sisters in the martial ways of the Hand, and accompany Sisters on their missions abroad.” He looked at Carym meaningfully, but Carym said nothing. “What is your name?”
“Carym. Of Hyrum.”
“Great Zuhr! Can it be so?” he asked quietly. The monk put his hands on Carym’s shoulders and gazed into his eyes. “Can it be so?” he repeated.
“Aye, it is so. Why do you ask?”
“Because we have been waiting for you!” he said joyously. “The wonders of our God never cease! He has delivered to us the one who will bring about the Return of the First Paladin, and the downfall of the false gods!”
“Waiting for me? How is that possible?”
“Dear man, all things are possible in the name of Zuhr!” the monk was giddy with excitement. “This calls for a celebration. All of Myrnwell will celebrate this joyous news.”
“I beg your pardon, brother. I know not how I can be the man whom you are expecting,” he said quietly, not wanting to believe this news. Was this yet another ploy by Umber’s own forces to delay him? He just wanted to end this quest. “We’ve not the time. Our mission is urgent. We have an audience with Delfyd Rhi this evening to attend the matter of our travels north. I am sorry.”
“Hmm. I must insist that you meet the Bishop of Myrnwell before you depart. He will likely have more assistance to offer you than the Rhi; that one may have his own interests in you.”
“I don’t understand,” Carym insisted. “How could anyone know me? Know I was coming, here?”
“Why it was Morgon Fyr, of Alfheym!” the man said in awe. “Did you not meet him?”
“Aye,” Carym replied quietly, closing his eyes. “Aye, meet him I did.” And promptly forgot about him and that crusty old sorcerer! There was far too much going on here. How could he have forgotten that pair? It didn’t make any sense. “We didn’t know ourselves that we would come here.”
“That one is a crafty one, and he has access to more information than any I daresay. He is one who has taken a keen interest in things concerning you,” he turned back to Gennevera. “Your decision to embrace the Great Lord Zuhr has become all the more apparent.”
“It has?” she asked, taken aback.
“Aye. You are going to have to keep him out of trouble!” the monk laughed heartily at his own attempt at levity. Carym smiled and shook the man’s hand, wondering how these things just keep falling into place. He was more than a little suspicious. It did seem, however, that Morgon failed to mention the existenc
e of the Sigil Stones to the monk.
“Where is Morgon now? I would like to see him again.”
“Ah, back in Alfheym by now.” Brother LeNoir had steered the pair into a secluded area. “He spent some time with the brothers of my order, the Fyrbold, teaching us the basics of the Fire Sigil.”
“Fyrbold?” he whispered. “There are Fyrbold here?”
“Oh, no true Fyrbold; just apprentices. Morgon said that the rest of the true Fyrbold are among the Crimson Elves,” he said sadly. “They are hesitant to pass their knowledge to the rest of the world, save for Morgon. Watch!” he said, snapping his fingers. An orange flame sprang from nowhere and danced upon his index finger. Carym smiled blandly at the monk’s pleasure, his mind dwelling on some of the terrible things he had done with the Shadow Sigil.
“We have much to learn of the Tides, but our instruction has only just begun. If only you had the time, we could learn from one as powerful as you.”
Carym’s stomach lurched, “You do me a great kindness, brother. I am neither worthy nor capable of such an important task.”
If the monk suspected Carym was being modest, he politely avoided saying so as he led the pair out of the sanctuary. Suddenly Carym decided that he should in fact attest his faith in Zuhr. He grabbed Brother LeNoir’s shoulder and the man patiently turned to face him. He was about to speak, to say what he intended to say when a terrible thought entered his mind, “Sir Ederick!”
The monk looked him oddly, expecting an explanation. Carym turned to Gennevera, “He went to find the Zuharim Barracks! If they catch him...” his voice trailed off.
“Pardon my ignorance, sir. But is this Sir Ederick a member of the Sword of Zuhr? The old Zuharim Barracks have been off limits to all but members of the High Command for some time now.”
“Brother, what would happen to a Zuharim Knight found in the city?” the monk blanched visibly at the mention of the reviled name.
“He would be arrested! Zuharim are to be arrested on sight.”
The Black Keep (The Chronicles of Llars) Page 27
