Sentinals Awaken: Book One of the Sentinals Series

by Helen Garraway

  As he pondered on the Lady’s words from the previous night, the glow began to dim, and Jerrol breathed a little easier. He glanced across at Jennery, still snoring into his pillow. It had been late by the time they had stopped talking.

  Jennery’s news was more disconcerting. The Grove council had a shadowy overseer calling the shots. How many other councils were infected by the same disease? He wondered what Torsion thought of it all and whether his council in Velmouth was affected.

  Sighing, he decided to return to Greenswatch and hope the Lord Captain had arrived. Lord Hugh would be a good source, to begin with, and then they would search out Torsion. Decision made, Jerrol levered himself out of bed and changed into his new clothes; he didn’t dwell on where they came from. The material was soft and silky against his skin. He had never owned such fine linen before. They shimmered with a silvery grey-green hue that pulsed gently, a more tangible gift from the Lady.

  It would be interesting to see if Jennery saw it the same way. His skin pulsed in rhythm but as he stamped into his boots, the two clicked in place and the glow sank into his skin, much as he had absorbed that exaltation last night. He wondered what it all meant.

  He had dreamt of the Lady last night. It was as if she were determined to give him his orders all at once. He had a head full of information, and yet it was all just out of reach as his brain busily catalogued and filed it all away; maybe once he made sense of it all he might be able to access it.

  He turned back to rouse Jennery and saw a small Arifel nestled on his pillow. Hesitating, he looked closer; it was a bizarre sight. A black and brown mackerel-striped kitten ending in a forked tail, and yes, those were scaly wings tucked in behind its forelegs. How long had it been there? Where had it come from? It looked young, newly hatched, another Arifel. Why were they suddenly appearing?

  He tried to reconcile the cute, cuddly kitten with the fact that it had reptilian features. The creature opened large emerald-green eyes and chittered in disapproval. It snuggled further into Jerrol’s pillow and glared at him; its eyes were trying to convey a message.

  Information kicked in. Arifels dated back to pre-cracking of the stone times. They hadn’t been seen since the stone had cracked, and they were highly intelligent creatures used by the Guardians to pass messages, especially vital between remote regions. They were telepathic creatures, though not with ordinary men, and they were rare, highly prized companions of the Lady’s court, or so his new memories provided him. The Arifel chittered in agreement and began to preen, flicking his forked tail in a gentle thump on the pillow.

  Jerrol smiled in amusement at the creature’s antics and yet, why was he here? He perched on the side of the bed and watched the little creature. The Arifel had a pointed face and a white nose. He meeped mournfully, and Jerrol’s stomach growled. He stared into the Arifel’s mesmerising green eyes, which grew larger and more pleading as he watched. He didn’t know what Arifels ate, but he could tell he needed to scrounge some food to keep him quiet.

  With a resigned sigh, he rose from the bed and glanced across at Jennery. “I’ll get food, but you have to stay there,” he said as he glared at the creature. The Arifel meeped happily and curled up on the pillow, tucking his scaly tail around his body.

  He left Jennery sleeping and made his way down the stairs to the taproom. One of the young maids was trying to wash the floor with a grubby mop. He wasn’t sure that she was making much difference. She paused as he entered the room and with a twitch of her lips which might have been a smile, she made a funny bob and spoke: “You’re early for the morning meal, sir, but I could get you some bread. Fresh-baked this morning.”

  “Bread would be fine,” he replied, and she bobbed again. Propping her mop against the wall, she disappeared out the back of the bar. She was back before he had a chance to move, holding a tray of bread twists and a mug of milk, which she placed on the nearest table; then she grabbed her mop and disappeared again.

  Jerrol sat and inhaled the aroma of fresh-baked bread, remembering similar early mornings at Stoneford Keep, coaxing rolls from the overworked cook. His shoulders relaxed as he pulled the twist apart.

  He mused over Jennery’s report of the man with the spiky hair he had followed the previous evening. Who were these people who had so insidiously infiltrated the Watches? The news of the shadowy figures controlling the council and rewriting history didn’t bode well for the people nor for the Watches of Vespiri.

  Jerrol drank some milk and then broke the rest of the bread into the liquid. He carried the mug back up to his room before the Arifel came in search of him. As he climbed the stairs, Birlerion appeared, his eyes sparkling. “Captain, there is another Arifel in your room.”

  “I know, where are they coming from?”

  Birlerion led the way. “The Lady is calling them.”

  Jerrol quickened his step and entered his room; he had returned none too soon. Jennery was groggily trying to swat what he thought was a persistent bug, though Jerrol grinned at the thought of an insect the size of this hungry Arifel.

  Jerrol offered the Arifel a soggy piece of bread to draw him away from Jennery. The Arifel guzzled up the sops. Perching on the side of the mug, he leant down inside to reach the rest. Slurping, he leaned further and further forward until inevitably with a started squawk he fell in. Fortunately, it sounded as if the mug was empty; well, there wasn’t much splashing.

  A rather sheepish face peered back over the rim of the mug at Jerrol. The creature’s whiskers had milk drops glistening on the ends, and he hauled himself out and perched on the edge; then, much like a cat, he started to clean his whiskers.

  Jerrol watched amused as the creature carefully groomed himself. Jennery had woken up and was also watching wide-eyed. “By the Lady,” he started before Jerrol could shush him.

  “It’s an Arifel.”

  “A what?”

  “An Arifel, a creature of myth and legend. I didn’t think they were real, though this one certainly is.”

  “They are the Lady’s messengers, if you can get them to concentrate for long enough,” Birlerion said with a grin.

  Jerrol glanced at him; he seemed more relaxed in their company after all the excitement of the previous evening. Jennery sat up, watching closely as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Is this to do with last night?”

  “I would think so,” Jerrol whispered, not wanting to startle the small creature. “Both our Lady and our King are under siege, gentlemen, and she has chosen us as her protectors.” Jerrol grimaced, “Let’s hope she has chosen wisely.”

  “Umm, Jerrol? Do you realise that your eyes are silver, like Birlerion’s? Did that happen last night as well?”

  Jerrol rubbed his eyes; he hadn’t thought to check. He rose and looked at himself in the mirror. Liquid silver eyes gleamed back at him. “Along with my uniform. The Lady is determined.”

  The creature finished grooming and settled back down in a crouch with a soft meep. His large emerald eyes stared at Jerrol.

  “Better?” Jerrol reached out a careful finger to stroke his white chest.

  The creature chittered in agreement and stretched his pink mouth in a jaw-cracking yawn, then walked up Jerrol’s forearm and snuggled into the crook of his arm. He gave a soft contented burp before closing his eyes.

  Their eyes met across the room, and Jennery snickered. “Looks like you are on babysitting duty.”

  Jerrol grimaced. “Looks like it, but he can’t sleep there.”

  “Well, at least he’s cute, it could be worse.”

  “How?” Jerrol growled.

  “Well, he could be covered in spines and ten times bigger.”

  With a sigh, Jerrol scooped the little creature up and, stuffing a wash-cloth in his pocket, he placed the Arifel safely inside his new bed. He didn’t seem to mind; he burrowed deeper into his nest. “Let’s hope he stays there for now.” He looked over at Jennery. “Get dressed, we need to speak to the smith.”

  They left the inn an
d started to walk down the muddy high street. The sky was overcast, the clouds low and heavy, and a steady drizzle persisted. Someone had laid down a few boards in an attempt to create a sidewalk, but the boards squelched in the mud, creating a more slippery hazard. They sensibly avoided them, skirting the muddy puddles and flooded cart ruts.

  “Ah, Jerrol?” Jennery rubbed his forehead. “You think you can catch me up with what’s going on? It’s all very well saying we are part of it, but what does that mean? I mean, last night was pretty spectacular, and you’ve had a grin on your face ever since, and now this furry creature turns up?”

  Jerrol took a deep breath. “I guess it has been piling up. I’m not sure I can explain last night, but I’ll try and explain what I can.” Where to start, he wondered. At the beginning, he supposed. He began to speak. “You know I returned from Birtoli about five months ago, and Nikols assigned me to the Chancellor’s detail. I think Nikols has been suspicious of Isseran for quite a while. He’s been meeting with all sorts of people, in odd places, yet none of it is reported back to the King through the usual diplomatic channels.

  “While I was with him, he tried to shake me off constantly, even though I was his security detail. I made quite a show of going off duty, but I know I was being followed.” Jerrol’s face tightened as he continued. “Well, let’s just say I didn’t go off duty and the Chancellor knew, then Prince Kharel accused me of treason and had me arrested.

  “I tried to protest my innocence, but Kharel had his men hustle me out. I’m not sure who was behind it either. The Chancellor? Prince Kharel? It wasn’t the King, that I do know.”

  Jennery watched Jerrol in concern. “But you managed to escape; how did you do that? And how did you know you needed to go to the Watches?”

  “Yes, well, let’s just say the Prince didn’t watch closely enough. Having cleared all my immediate responsibilities to King and country out of the way, it seemed logical to head as far from Vespers as I could. There have been concerns about the Guardians, and well, the Lady guides my feet now.

  “I believe there is a link between the King’s palsy and the state of the land. The King is supposed to protect the people, and the people protect the land for him. You know the story about the Guardians and how they are linked to the Sentinals. They maintain the balance in the lands.”

  “Yes, everyone knows the importance. Lord Hugh is one, Guardian of the Greenswatch,” Jennery said.

  “Hmm,” replied Jerrol, glancing around as they neared the ruins of the smithy; this probably wasn’t the best place to discuss this. He veered off towards the tall sentinals guarding the Grove. “Let’s talk here for a moment.” He glanced around him. The Grove was still; not a bird chirped or a leaf stirred. In the dim green light, Jerrol stared at Jennery and Birlerion, a sense of expectancy in the air.

  “That balance is out of kilter. The Guardians are dying, and I need to discover why and stop it. That’s where we come in. The Lady has more Guardians than just the Lord Holders. The Guardians also protect the groves, the sentinals, and certain relics and lore records. They are scattered across all the four kingdoms – not just here in Vespiri. Some are in Terolia, Elothia and probably Birtoli as well, but they always follow the same family. The Guardianship passed from generation to generation.”

  He ran his hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up in tufts. “That’s what happened last night. The Guardianship passed to Gilly. The smith’s mother, Sylvie, passed it to me before she died, but I wasn’t the right vessel. My body couldn’t assimilate it; it was trying to reject me. I think...” He paused, thinking it through. “I think that’s why the Lady intervened last night. She couldn’t lose another Guardian, so she made me a temporary vessel until I could pass it on to Gilly. And as a result, you see...” He gestured at his clothing. “Only I don’t think the Lady sees it as temporary. The Lady claimed me before; I think she is stamping her mark. She said to me...” He tried to remember her words exactly. “She said the journey was just starting, that the forgotten are waiting and that we must protect the Guardians. She called me her Captain.”

  Birlerion nodded. “There has to be a Lady’s Captain. If Guerlaire cannot return, then she would have to appoint another. All Sentinals report to you.”

  Jennery began to laugh. “I think the Lady is definitely more appreciative than your last boss.” He waved at Jerrol’s clothes as if to validate the point. “The King’s got no chance of getting you back.” He collapsed into gales of helpless laughter at the sight of Jerrol’s pained expression. Jennery tried to control his laughter, but whenever he glimpsed Jerrol’s face, he burst out laughing again. Even Birlerion was grinning.

  “Alright, alright, joke’s on me, but in all seriousness.” Jerrol glanced sternly at Jennery, who was leaning against the smooth trunk of a Sentinal to hold himself up, flapping his hand in a go-on motion. “We need to find and protect the Guardians against whatever is hunting them. And to see how the councils are all connected in this.”

  Jennery sobered up at that. “The fire last night managed to flush one of them out,” he said. “It caught immediately, you know, and spread fast, even though the timbers should’ve been wet through after all this rain.”

  “Yes, we need to find out where and how the fire started. It wasn’t accidental, that’s for sure. It couldn’t have been that fellow you followed last night; he never went near the smithy. Unless it was some type of delayed reaction.” Jerrol considered the possibility and shifted uneasily. “Let’s go look at the ruins and see if we can tell anything from that.” He glanced at Birlerion. “I’d like you to have a closer look; you might spot something we’ve missed. We still need to speak to the smith as well.”

  “How in the Lady’s name did you manage to wangle my orders to join you if you’ve been discharged from the service?” Jennery asked, starting to put things together.

  “Ah.” Jerrol grinned at him mischievously: time to get his own back. “I told you I sent them before I left. I didn’t think word of my downfall would have reached them yet.”

  “What? You mean they are not official?”

  “Well,” drawled Jerrol, “that probably depends on your point of view. Your commander thought they were official, otherwise he wouldn’t have dispatched you, though what he’s thinking now who knows!”

  “They’ll be calling me a deserter,” Jennery complained, though he didn’t seem particularly bothered at the thought.

  “I’m sure the Lady, now she’s got the hang of recruiting, wouldn’t mind adding you to her company. I could use the help.” Before he finished speaking, Jennery’s eyes widened in shock, and a soppy grin spread over his face. Jennery had been leaning against the nearest sentinal for support and as Jerrol watched a green glow spread up his arm and gradually transformed his clothes into the same grey-green uniform Jerrol was wearing. Birlerion began to chuckle.

  “Well, at least we match now.” Jerrol couldn’t help but grin.

  “What?” Jennery leapt away from the sentinal. “You, you!” Jennery waggled his finger at Jerrol, but he couldn’t get the expletive past his lips.

  “Never mind.” Jerrol patted his arm in sympathy. “I doubt the Lady will be prepared to give you up either, even once she gets to know you.”

  “A new brother. The Lady is pleased. I said you wouldn’t be able to refuse her. Welcome, Leanderion,” Birlerion said, gripping Jennery’s arms and giving him a shake.

  “No, no, call me Jennery,” Jennery gasped, horrified. Birlerion started laughing.

  A muted meep from his pocket reminded Jerrol of his passenger, and he carefully lifted the little Arifel out.

  “Did you hear the Lady?” From the enthusiastic response, he assumed the answer was yes. The Arifel launched himself at Jennery, fluttering around his head and mussing his hair.

  Jerrol watched the Arifel and wondered what would happen next. How was an Arifel going to help him, and an immature one at that? His gut told him he was here to help and in response to the Lady’s prom
ise. Was he one of the forgotten? A soft chuckle vibrated in his ear, and he knew precisely how the Arifel could help.

  Information scrolled behind his eyes and he sighed in relief; he parsed the information, suddenly glad of the hours spent with Torsion learning his research methods in the depths of the Chapterhouse’s archives. Arifels could recognise Guardians. They could make themselves invisible as well, so only those with the sight or Guardians could see them.

  At least that would help them travel more discreetly and be the signal for Guardians to come forward, assuming that they recognised the Arifel for what it was. He hoped the Arifel knew how to become invisible. He was certain that was something beyond his skills to teach! The little Arifel popped out of sight, and Jerrol assumed he’d be able to find them if he wanted to.

  Jerrol led the way back towards the blackened ruins of the hostelry, with Jennery still muttering under his breath and a surprisingly happy Birlerion; maybe this was all familiar to him. He glanced at them both with a wry smile. Jennery was touching his new clothes with hesitant fingers, a smile of wonder on his face. He’d probably never worn such fine linen before either.

  As they approached the ruins, Jerrol saw the smith moving about, dejectedly lifting beams that were still smouldering before letting them fall back to the ground with sodden puffs of ash. The site looked more depressing in the drizzly rain. The smell of charred wood and the tang of ash and water permeated the air along with fine fragments of dust stirred up by the smith’s actions. Towards the front of the house, the ash was a pure white, darkening to a dirty grey towards the rear. Jennery continued round to the stables to check on the horses.

  “Not much left,” Jerrol said as he surveyed the ruins. It was a distressing sight. The smith grunted in response as he lifted another beam. “It caught straight away,” Jerrol continued. “You were lucky your neighbours managed to save the barn and the smithy.”

  The smith stood up. “I suppose so. In all this rain you would have thought it would stop smoking. You can still feel the heat in the beams.”