by Marin Landis
Contents
CHAPTER ONE Child
CHAPTER TWO Avatar
CHAPTER THREE Sehar
CHAPTER FOUR Excommunicato
CHAPTER FIVE Interrogation
CHAPTER SIX Librarian
CHAPTER SEVEN The Enemy of My Enemy
CHAPTER EIGHT Groetume
CHAPTER NINE Amalia
CHAPTER TEN Messenger
CHAPTER ELEVEN Convergence
CHAPTER TWELVE Viterorm
CHAPTER THIRTEEN Tarkan
CHAPTER FOURTEEN Katle
CHAPTER FIFTEEN Truth
CHAPTER SIXTEEN A New Way
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Alive
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Target
CHAPTER NINETEEN Revenge
CHAPTER TWENTY Discovery
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE Father
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO Coronation
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE Machinations
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR The New Prince
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE Unleashed
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX Unbound
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN Mithras
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT The Others
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE The Brotherhood
CHAPTER THIRTY Shortcut
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE Pupils and Master
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO True Love
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE The Untrodden Path
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR Haylan
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE Epilogue - Anaurim
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX Epilogue - Mikael
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN Epilogue - Adversaries
CHAPTER ONE
Child
"When no one cares if you're alive or is concerned about how cold you are or if you have enough food, the understanding that you are absolutely invisible to every other single soul; that feeling can never be forgotten." - Bhav
Renward was on his way home and he was in a hurry. He wasn't in a hurry because it was cold or because it was dark or because this part of the city was all but deserted at this time of night. He was in a hurry because he wanted to drink himself to sleep.
The woman he had just seen was sick. Well, he knew she would be sick when he went to her house, but he didn't expect her to be deranged and perverse to the point where he seriously considered smothering her with a pillow.
It was part of his duty as a Church physician to see to the medical needs of Hestallr's flock. Every day he would hold a surgery in the temple apotheca and at night travel out to homes of people unable to travel. In this case, the widow Eliss who had been found wandering the streets the night before, confused and scared. She was old and in poor health and secretly Renward questioned the profit in keeping her alive. She had no relatives and no means of supporting herself. While the Church had a policy of euthanasia it also had a policy of caring for followers. It was not for him, though, to determine who would be sent along to Mithras's Golden Halls, so he would do his duty even if it meant he had to face her again.
To be fair he was no stranger to bodily fluids, being a medician. What was alien was women old enough to be his grandmother, smeared with her own excretions, trying to do THAT with him. He couldn't get the stench out of his nose or the sight out of his mind. Only wine would do that for him. And to think, there was a school of thought that believed wine of detriment to the health.
He strode rapidly through Amanestor Square, past the Fount of Rejuvenation. Grandly titled and as grandly appointed. By day this plaza would be thronged with folk, stalls would be set up selling everything from clothing to jewelry to small animals and food, street entertainers would be performing and begging. It would be loud, with laughter and haggling and shouts of mothers after errant children and men gossiping over their ale.
Renward even fancied he could hear a child now, but of course they would all be tucked up in bed. Which was his preference, he found them unpredictable and frustrating, always pulling on him when seeing to them or demanding things from their parents. He pulled his cloak closer around himself and watched a scrap of paper scurry down a side alley, propelled by the wind. The priest watched it twist and turn and flip in a flurry of movements past the bare feet of a young girl.
He looked up, surprised. There she was, not fifty feet away, her dress, light brown and too thin to be wearing out at night, barely reached her knees. She wore no shoes and her arms were bare. Poor thing, she must be cold, thought Renward and made his way over to her.
By the time he had reached her, his concern had risen from merely worrying about her bare feet to wondering why a young girl would be here at this time of night. Alone. Or was she?
Renward had a little of the paranoiac about him and paused. Could this be some sort of trap? Why would there be a lost child here, in the commercial heart of the city? He shook his head, should robbers wish to accost him they could just walk over and do so, besides there was little crime in Uth-Magnar.
He felt something akin to a compulsion and knew that no matter his fears, he could not just leave her standing there. The little girl had her face in her hands and as he got closer he saw she was shivering.
There was a time for a couple of hours after dusk where the Volcanium that powered the fountain was still active, warming the plaza from beneath. That warmth had since fled and the wind had picked up, blowing a chill breeze. The fountain itself was still, the water that leaped so gaily around, between the carved birds and curved forms of the frolicking maidens absent. The lack of the routine made the quiet all the more eerie and the whimpering of this little girl that much more plaintive.
He didn't want to touch her, he had no experience with children and wasn’t even sure why he approached this one, so he merely stood before her, not too close and spoke softly. "Hello there."
She sniffed and pulled her hands away and he almost feared that she would be some horribly disfigured child or otherwise repulsive and then he could have woken up from what almost seemed a surreal dream. With guilty relief he saw that she was an attractive child, almost painfully so, her enormous eyes filled with tears. He could almost feel his heart breaking as an unparalleled feeling of sorrow filled him. He hadn't had a lot of experience with children, being a confirmed bachelor and certainly never one in this situation. When many of his peers went out into the Tarkans or Amaranth, he had decided to stay in Magnar, seeing it as the easy option.
She couldn't have been more than a handful of years old. "Where's your mother? Or your father?"
Without answering she held out her hand to him and he took it. Her eyes were huge and she looked at him with the gaze of the innocent, with simple curiosity, free from guile or expectation. It came again, that small compulsion. It was his duty as a priest. Who deserved salvation if not this child, what good anything he did if he didn't save this little girl? She was very cold indeed so he took off his cloak and wrapped it around her, lifting her into his arms. He was not a very strong man, but she didn't weigh even half as much as he thought she was going to.
"Come on, you, let's get some food in you and somewhere warm." He wasn't going to let her stay out here for one second longer than she needed to be.
The Temple of Mithras in Uth-Magnar was the largest temple of any kind in the entirety of the Three Kingdoms. There wasn’t quite the presence of religion that there was in the Northern Empire of Malann, the King of Uth had only in recent times committed himself to Mithras. The Sun God Himself had taken himself away from his dedicants for many years. In sorrow, it was said. Sorrow for the actions of mortals at the time of the Sundering. Renward knew little about that semi-mythical time, but he was glad it was over. Glad that eventually Mithras returned to his flock.
On that day roughly twenty years ago the Sun didn't rise. Of course general panic and mayhem ensued. The feeling was that the end of the world had com
e. Old scores people thought they'd have time to settle became urgent and violence erupted all across the known world. Rioting and looting brought cities like Magnar to its knees. Merchants were bankrupted, homes were destroyed. Rape and destruction became the order of the day. If the world was to end what was the point in even the thin veneer of civilization?
If anyone had previously thought that the end of the world would be a drawn out process, they soon amended their views. After only three hours of darkness when it would have ordinarily been sunlight, King Alpre was barricaded in his chambers against his previously "loyal" court.
Then, all at once, the Sun shone again and everything stopped. The mood, all across the land became one of hope. Men, ready to kill one another, embraced. The battering ram ready to smash the King's bedroom door in, discarded.
A month later, Hestallr appeared. He moved from village to village, town to town, eventually requesting an audience with Calra Alpre and was able to convert the previously ambivalent King. Calra himself wasn't interested in religion but understood the benefits to his kingdom. Other forms of worship existed of course and Mithras Himself had followers in all corners of the Three Kingdoms but after Mournday, as that day became known, His popularity hit new heights.
Legends surfaced about what had actually happened that day and followers of Mithras will tell you that Mithras was able to overthrow his ancient enemy, Apset the White Serpent of the Sky, preventing him from swallowing the Sun during the day ever again. The truth was equally fantastical and much more interesting.
Over a dozen years later, King Calra Alpre XVI sanctioned and paid for a Grand Temple in Uth-Magnar. The plans for the immense edifice were drawn by a blind prophet in Fallset (so legend went) and seven years on construction was still underway, though the main temple was in full working order.
Even at night, in the cold, with the wind cutting through his clothing, a young girl asleep in his arms, the Temple was an awe-inspiring sight. Essentially a square building, much of Mithraic architecture was square, with a tower at each cardinal point. The main building rose to roughly seventy feet while the towers loomed at two hundred feet above the ground. A giant statue of Mithras rose from the central building, He, holding aloft a mighty hammer, ready to smite the vile serpent.
A grand set of double doors, rumored to be made of solid gold appeared impenetrable and indeed could not be opened from the outside. Above them an enormous Sun, its rays inscribed with mystical sigils and runes, some symbolic, some eldritch.
The white stone used to build the temple was imported from the far east and worked by Fovelish gnomes. Hestallr himself oversaw the construction and the gnomes seemed as respectful of him as everyone else was.
Access to the towers and the top floor of the temple was restricted to high ranking priests and a room at the very top, in the very center, of the main building was for Hestallr alone. He called it the Observatory, but none knew what it could be that he observed there. Beneath the building itself were crypts ready for the God's faithful and said to hold untold riches and mysteries. The Heiligr that barred the way to the crypts and the upper levels though could not be swayed by inducements of any kind and the true nature of the restricted areas were not for the likes of Renward to know. For now at least.
He didn't spend long this night in admiring the architecture for he was still in a hurry and his desire to end this day in the arms of a bottle was as strong as ever. There were three other entrances to the temple that he had access to, the smaller but still large doors on the outside of the towers and the kitchen entrance at the side. All the doors on the front led to the same place, the main space of the church. Affectionately known as Hestallr’s Sanctuary, it was an enormous space easily two hundred feet square which should be deserted at this hour.
The alleyway was dark but he used it frequently so he was unconcerned. In many other areas of the city one might be worried about being robbed or otherwise accosted, but not when the Heiligr did regular rounds of the Temple. They held themselves outside the laws of Amaranth, as did the Deniers. Both groups were spotless and above corruption so it would be a terrific mistake to be discovered doing something unlawful near the Temple. Kingdom guards could be bribed or might turn a blind eye. Heiligr would do neither.
There was some activity and a light shone out from the open door to the kitchen. It was a cook and a cleaner slopping out some huge pots, the soapy liquid flowing down the alley into a large drain. Renward shuddered. Rumors abounded of 'things' in the sewer and he didn't want to think what they might be. He frequently saw rats during his nocturnal duties. That was quite enough. Scurrying creatures made him feel uneasy.
"Evening," he greeted the cook and the cleaner, neither of whose names he had bothered to learn or remember. His levels of empathy did extend to healthy adults, though he had quite enough of the rundown and broken to pander to unnecessary niceties. He knew he was widely despised for his attitude as well as universally lauded for his healing skills. People needed him, they just want didn't want him.
They both nodded, looked curiously at the young girl in his arms and then went about their business. They wouldn't ask and he wouldn't answer, so 'least said, soonest mended' was the best course of action.
Renward traversed the kitchen, the young girl's head flopped to the side, her mouth slightly open. He felt a twinge of sadness. Who would leave such a lovely thing alone in the cold?
Leaving the bright and somewhat noisy room, moving through the mess and into the dining room he felt grateful for the warmth of the Volcanium assisted heating ducts that had been built into the Temple. His destination was the set of rooms at the rear of the Temple. He had a meager suite, merely a bedroom, a study and a laboratory, but there was a couch in his study that he could sleep on while the girl had his bed.
He still had to pass through the Grand Nave. It occurred to him then that much of the Temple was referred to as 'Grand'. It made sense, this was an amazing building and it also defined its earthly and Heavenly masters. Hestallr was nothing if not grand, being in his presence was rewarding but at the same time terrifying. As he made his way through the massive room, his footsteps echoing to the high vaulted ceiling, he started to hear a rhythmic tapping sound. He knew immediately what it was. Povimus.
There would be no chance of a quick resolution to his lack of wine now. Povimus could not be avoided.
Renward caught sight of him, near the altar, finishing the Rite of the Hammer, his blind stick tapping the ground. It was quite ingenious really. Povimus could navigate the Temple as well as any sighted person, causing many to doubt his lack of vision, but when one had a closer look, the milky fog across his eyes became apparent. He didn't let this stop him becoming the clear favorite for Emissary of Mithras to Amaranth. Hestallr himself was the High Priest, but had so many other, mostly mysterious, duties that someone needed to step up to the position of senior priest of this Temple. That it would be Povimus was in no doubt; he worked harder than anyone, rarely sleeping and had a head for finances. Not a cobbit could be spent without him knowing about it. There was more than one way to serve Mithras, as Hestallr was fond of saying.
No point in trying to sneak past, thought Renward.
"Good evening, Povimus," he spoke as if meeting at midnight whilst carrying an unconscious child was an everyday event.
"Good evening, Renward," he started, "how is Eliss?"
"She's as well as she will ever be. Her malady is fatal."
"I'm sure that you mean 'terminal'," chided Povimus, "nevertheless I'm sure she appreciates your attention."
Too much, thought Renward. "Yes. Well, I'll be off to bed." he murmured and started off, trying his hardest to keep his breathing steady.
"Why are you carrying a child in your arms?" Povimus sounded worried. "Here, let me examine him."
How in the Hells could he have known that? "It's a girl, Povimus. I found her wandering the streets, alone and distraught. I don't even like children, so I don't know what possessed me to bring
her here." He realized then that he had been acting out of character.
Povimus had his surprisingly delicate hand on the girl's cheek, face unmoving, mind probably racing.
"It is as I thought. That feeling isn't yours, its hers." Povimus posited mysteriously and didn't rapidly explain.
"What feeling, brother?" Renward asked pleasantly, secretly impatient.
"Well, as I was performing my midnight iteration of the Rite of the Hammer, a terrific feeling of holiness overwhelmed me. It was as though Mithras Himself had reached out to me. I have felt a similar thing when Hestallr does the rite. Not allowing myself the hubris of believing that it could be me so enlightened I reached out with my senses and heard you traversing the area. Then I heard another person whose breath was shallow and whose almost silent mumblings betrayed her youth, though not her sex. I was delighted at first thinking that your entrance had attracted Mithras's blessing, but 'twas not the case, though you are a blessing, brother."
He smiled up at Renward, there being a good half a foot in height between them, and then down again at the child in his arms.
"So, the child..." prompted Renward.
"She is the source of the holiness, Renward!" he spoke as though that were obvious.
"How can it be, Povimus? She is merely a lost child, an orphan most likely. We will send a messenger to the orphanages tomorrow..." His words sounded hollow even to himself.
"You would have taken her yourself, this very evening, were that your goal, Renward. You are not a lover of children, or people for that matter, and yet you carry and hold her like the most precious flower. There is a spirit at work here and it has softened your heart."
The medician thought analytically for a moment, realizing that Povimus's words rang with truth. He used his gifts in the service of Mithras, not because he cared for the general throng of humanity no matter their age. So why then was he so concerned with this waif and had intended to wrap her up and watch her sleep without so much as a second thought? Still he had that overwhelming urge, though he knew it to be alien in origin.
