“Well, I suppose they’re mine, as I am their Captain and they are part of my Guard, but their allegiance lies with Stoneford. They protect Stoneford Watch. You are the Guardian; therefore, they look to you. Chryllion will remain here with you. Once Saerille has patched the Veil, she will return and help you and Chryllion as needed. Tagerillion is going to come with Birlerion and me and see what is going on at the Watch Towers.”
“My friends call me Tagerill, Captain. I would be honoured if you would do the same,” the red-haired Sentinal said with a grin.
“Shouldn’t Tagerill come with me to Greenswatch?” Alyssa suggested doubtfully.
“Nay, my Lady, the Captain needs me,” Tagerill said. “I’ll return in good time. Greens is no longer mine, and I doubt I would recognise it. It belongs to Penner’s descendants. I belong with the Captain.”
Jerrol recognised the need to act, to be of use. He silently agreed with Tagerill. Greens would be a bittersweet return. His gaze paused on Birlerion, still cradling the little black and white Arifel. His face was soft as the Arifel rubbed against him.
What was it about him that caught your eye? For someone so reserved, people deferred to him without noticing. He had morphed from a cold-eyed killer to a man with a history, in a few short weeks. A man with strong emotions and an abiding love for the Lady, someone he knew would become a friend, given time. Even Jennery had gotten over his initial suspicions.
When had Birlerion become such a reassuring presence behind his shoulder? He seemed to have adapted so well compared to the newly awoken Sentinals. And yet there was still something elusive about him, something hidden. Jerrol wondered when Birlerion would finally relax enough to trust him.
Chapter 23
Velmouth, Stoneford Watch
Jerrol watched Tagerill in concern as the Sentinal slowly crouched lower in his saddle as they travelled. He had tried to answer his questions, but the more places he pointed out, the more confused Tagerill’s questions became. He became quieter and more withdrawn as the miles passed.
Once again, Jerrol appreciated how well Birlerion had adapted. He had to admit that he doubted he would have adjusted to his situation so well. Birlerion didn’t seem nearly as displaced as Tagerill did, even though he admitted he knew none of the villages Jerrol was naming. The only time he had wobbled was when he had greeted Tagerill, which under the circumstances was only natural.
Ranks of mature trees lined the roads, opening into arable fields that stretched as far as the eye could see before closing in around them again. Roads led off to small villages and hamlets, through dark tunnels of trees that Jerrol named but meant nothing to the Sentinals.
Birlerion twisted his lips. “It’s like being a stranger in a foreign land; now and then you recognise something, and you think you know where you are, but you don’t really.”
“I spent months posted here in Stoneford, yet I don’t recognise any of it,” Tagerill said.
“You will learn Vespiri again. Underneath it is still the same, it is still home,” Jerrol said, trying to reassure them. “I will awaken more Sentinals, and we will find your friends.”
“Not all of them,” Tagerill replied, his voice low. “My sister was in Vespers with Birlerion. You say that was destroyed and has been rebuilt. Greens has lost her Guardian.” He swallowed and continued. “My father was the first Guardian, that was the last time we were all together. Versill, Marian, Birler and I, we were all Rangers before we became Sentinals. We all came home and celebrated the creation of the Watch with my parents and my eldest brother Penner.”
“Versill is at Greens, and we have each other,” Birlerion said, trying to reassure though his expression matched Tagerill’s.
“As Alyssa said, you have family at Greens, maybe many times removed but they will still be your family, Tagerill. I think you will find yourself fortunate,” Jerrol said.
Tagerill brightened a little. “At least there is still a Greens,” he agreed. “And Versill is there. And Serillion.”
“We will stop there on the way to Old Vespers after we find Torsion and discover what is going on up here. Tell me about Serillion, is he a friend of yours?” Jerrol asked.
Tagerill finally relaxed as he started to talk about his friend. The miles passed as he and Birlerion reminisced about their days at the academy. Jerrol shook his head at their antics and looked forward to meeting the Sentinal that meant so much to them both.
Velmouth perched in the foothills of the Stanton Peaks, a curling spine of snow-tipped mountains that curved around the town and split off to the north into Elothia. The air was crisp and clean and so clear that the vibrant blue sky and the surrounding pine trees popped. The resinous scent of pine permeated the air.
The conical roofs of the grey stone Watch Towers peeped above the ranks of deep green pine trees, wreathed in mist. The Watch Towers were at least another day’s ride from Velmouth.
Tagerill took a deep breath. “The Watch Towers seem to be untouched, though I do not remember a town here,” he said, gazing about him.
“We have grown. Remargaren is more highly populated now, and new towns are springing up everywhere. Keeps the scholars busy updating the maps.”
“There are maps of all Remargaren?” Tagerill’s voice rose in surprise. “Guerlaire spent much of his time exploring new lands.”
“Oh yes, from the icy wastes of Elothia to the Island archipelago of Birtoli.”
“Islands?” Tagerillion twisted in his saddle. “Is Birtoli no longer connected to the mainland?” He looked around as if he would be able to see it.
Jerrol grinned. “I’ll take you down to the coast at Mortelin, you can see the main islands of Aguinti and Molinti from there.”
Tagerill sank back in shock. “Islands?” he muttered to himself.
They approached the outskirts of Velmouth as wooden houses with small picket-fenced gardens lined the road. The town sprawled at the foot of the mountains and tracks led off in all directions, lined with houses. The main road opened into a central square with empty stalls lining the edges. A small temple stood proudly to the north of the square, its white dome gleaming in the bright sunshine. They rode past busy cafes and taverns towards the hostelry and the adjoining inn.
“Birlerion, go and get the rooms. Tagerill and I will see to the horses. Let’s get settled. Then we’ll split up and search for Torsion.”
Birlerion dismounted, tugged his saddlebags off and walked up the steps into the inn. Jerrol and Tagerill continued into the barn next door. The fresh smell of sawdust and straw blended with the aroma of leatherwork and the musty odour of horses. A small, wizened man came out of the tack room as he heard their voices.
The man gave a sharp whistle, and a young lad scampered in to take one of the horses. “Them over there are empty, pay at the inn with your rooms.” Jerrol followed the lad as directed and suddenly turned back. “We’re hoping to meet a friend here, Scholar Torsion, do you know him?” The man stared at him and then he shook his head before shuffling back into the tack room, uninterested.
“Where do you think Scholar Torsion will be?” Tagerill asked as he led his horse into a stall.
Jerrol considered Tagerill’s question as he followed with Zin’talia. “Well, he is a sometime councillor up here, so I suggest we start at the council building. If not we can check at the temple and the local taverns, though he may be up at the Watch Towers. He has always been fascinated by the Watchers. He will be so excited to meet you. Be warned, he will interrogate you until he knows everything you know.”
Tagerill gave a small chuckle. “I’m not sure I’ll be much help there. The Lady set the Watchers their task. We merely guarded them.”
Jerrol unstrapped Zin’talia’s saddle and pulled it off. He slung it over the bar and leaned against the railing. “It concerns me how much was lost. Over time the legends evolved in the telling, the messages lost or diluted. When the Lady did whatever she did in the end, the destruction must have been total. She used all the magi
c left in the world and took the knowledge of it with her.” Jerrol watched Tagerill. “We know so little, and nothing about Sentinals.”
Tagerill finished unsaddling his horse and turned back to Jerrol. “The Lady created us about two years before she sundered the Bloodstone – not that we realised that was going to be her intent. We were scattered across Remaragen, trying to block the Ascendants’ plans and protect the people.” Tagerill began to brush the worst of the dust off his horse. “The Ascendants grew out of the Administration; they got used to the taste of power. They were not satisfied with ruling on behalf of the Lady, they wanted it for themselves. That was why the Lady created the Watches. She devolved some of that power into the people themselves.
“The land provided for the people, the people worshipped the Lady, the Lady blessed the Guardians, and the Guardians protected all. I suppose it is to be expected that the regions devolved as they have; it would take much to replace the Lady.” He grimaced. “The Ascendants were furious, so it doesn’t surprise me their descendants are targeting the Watches today, trying to complete what the Ascendants failed to.”
“And they genuinely used magic?”
“They liked to think so. The Ascendants became so focused on the belief that they were special, the pure bloodline that was born to rule, that they forgot that the Lady and her family created Remargaren. They had real power.
“The Ascendants discovered some of the latent power of the land and those clever enough harnessed it, through their minds or through other devices they created. But they couldn’t control it properly, and they caused more damage than good. We spent all our time fixing the damage.”
“So you have power as well?”
Tagerill chuckled. “The Lady has the power, and her sister Marguerite. They work through us. We are her tools. We do her bidding. We exist to protect the Lady and her people.”
“These Ascendants have found a way to control people. They are controlling the councils, and they are turning on the Guardians.” Jerrol stepped out of the stall, slinging his saddlebag over his shoulder as a young lad arrived with a haynet for Zin’talia. He cooed over the white mare, stroking her flanks. Jerrol grinned at the sight of another convert. “She likes Baliweed, if there is any to be found,” he said, handing the lad a coin. The lad darted off.
Jerrol looked at Tagerill. “They are slowly destroying the King’s power in the Watches. We need to find who is behind this. It is bigger than a power grab by Prince Kharel and the Chancellor; they are focused on the King and Vespers. This is more insidious, and it’s here in the Watches, and the Lady is the target.”
“We will find them, Captain. The Lady watches.”
“As the line protects,” Jerrol replied instinctively. “We’d better get on with it then,” he said, leading the way out of the stable.
They found Birlerion stretched out on a bed in their room, dozing. Jerrol dumped his bag next to a bed, and Birlerion opened his eyes. “Come on. There are a few hours of light left, let’s check if Torsion is here or if he’s up at the towers. Birlerion, you go and check us in at the council office. Tagerill, you visit the temple and the square. I’ll check the hostelries. We’ll meet at the tavern in the east corner of the square.”
They split up and began searching Velmouth.
Jerrol and Tagerill were first back to the tavern. They slid into a shadowy alcove, exchanging notes while they waited for Birlerion. “According to the smith, he came through about a month ago,” Jerrol said as he sipped his ale.
“I didn’t find any word of him. If he did stop here, he didn’t stop long.”
Jerrol tapped the table. “But in Stoneford they said he left three or four months ago, so where has he been?”
“Maybe he went straight up to the towers?” Tagerill suggested, watching the door. “Apparently, there is quite a pilgrimage to the towers lately. People travelling up there to be blessed by the Lady, or so the Father said. I’m not sure why the temple isn’t good enough; she’s more likely to be there than the towers.”
Jerrol relaxed against the wall. “Did the Father say why?”
“No, he kinda clammed up when some petitioners came in, but I did overhear him telling them another trip would take place tomorrow and they could book a place on the wagon at the council office. For a fee no doubt,” Tagerill said, with disgust. “It sounds like someone is trying to make some money on the side out of innocent people.”
“The council?”
“It will be interesting to hear what Birlerion has to say,” Tagerill murmured.
“Where is he? I didn’t expect him to take this long.” Jerrol shifted restlessly. “Maybe we ought to go find him.”
Crossing town, they kept to the main streets and soon arrived at the darkened council office. There was no sign of Birlerion.
It was a two-storey building clad in wooden planks, with an outside staircase leading up to a door on the second floor. The front of the building had wooden steps leading up to a verandah which circled the ground floor. The verandah was bare; no furniture or plant pots adorned it like neighbouring buildings. The front door had a sign pinned to it announcing that the office was closed, which explained the darkness downstairs. A solitary light glowed in the upstairs room.
Jerrol carefully circled the building, checking for guards and alternative entrances, but the stairs were the only way up. The drainpipes looked too flimsy even for his paltry weight. He ghosted up the steps to listen at the door. He heard movement within, but no voices. He was debating about entering when the decision was taken out of his hands as the door opened. The tall, dark-haired man jerked back in surprise at the sight of Jerrol with his hand raised to knock on the door.
The man cursed and reached for his sword and Jerrol launched himself at him, giving the man no time to react. Tagerill followed up Jerrol’s strike with a clip behind the ear from the haft of his dagger, and the man collapsed in a heap in the floor. Tagerill produced some cord and tied the man up.
“Who is he?” Tagerill patted the man down as Jerrol searched the room.
“A councillor, I assume, though from his reaction I would suggest we’ll find he’s one of these Ascendants.” Jerrol stared at the man’s thin face, committing it to memory; although he had never seen him before, his face reminded him of someone. His left eye was purpling nicely; someone had hit him, and recently.
“Ascendants were nothing like him. They had power, magic, and they weren’t afraid to use it.”
“They have enough power,” Jerrol said as he displayed five letters he found on the desk. “Look, the council is being suborned, the same as we found at the Grove. I bet they control everything in Velmouth. They are undermining the Watches, and no one noticed.” He tucked the letters in his jacket.
As he sat at the desk pondering, he noticed a skewed rug which was snagged on a slightly raised floorboard. He crossed the room and knelt, levering the board up with his dagger. He felt around the hole. Encountering the corner of a box, he lifted it out. Inside was a copy of a pamphlet praising the rise of Var’geris and a small black notebook listing names and words. He suddenly wondered what Nikols had done with the one he had found in Old Vespers.
The man on the floor groaned. Jerrol pocketed the pamphlet and notebook, shoved the box back into the hole and replaced the floorboard and rug. He sauntered over to the window to check the road before hitching one hip on the desk. They had been here too long.
“That wasn’t a very nice welcome, now was it?” Jerrol asked as he watched the man. “Do you always attack visitors as soon as they arrive? Where is my friend?”
The man stiffened. “You’re too late,” he spat.
“Oh, why?”
“He is lost. He won’t be able to resist.”
“Where did they take him?”
“Once Var’geris hears you attacked his disciples, you will suffer his wrath.”
“Really? Where is this mighty Var’geris? I keep hearing about him, but there isn’t much substance to him. D
oes he speak for himself?”
“Blasphemy!” The man struggled to release his hands, desperate to grab Jerrol. “Once Terolia is in his hands, Vespiri will be eager to submit to his rule.”
“How do you intend to do that?”
“You’ll see, we have the Captain now, he’ll show us the way in,” the man sneered, rolling over and trying to release his bonds, refusing to say more. He stiffened as Tagerill loomed over him.
“I doubt he will. I think you’ll find he won’t give you what you want.” Jerrol rose, collected the papers and glanced out the window. “I’m disappointed, Councillor Fortes, that you are not prepared to do your duty to your King and Lady. That is the purpose of the council, you know,” he said as he crossed the room. “I think that it is time you retired and allowed someone more suitable to fill the role.”
The man’s eyes widened in fear. “You wouldn’t dare,” he spluttered.
“Oh, why ever not? You have no such qualms when you send out your men,” Jerrol purred into his ear as Tagerill set to work.
Chapter 24
Stoneford Keep, Stoneford Watch
Jason stood in the gate, watching the last of Bryce’s men ride around the curve in the road and out of sight. He turned back towards the keep with Chryllion at his shoulder. The Sentinal was a constant shadow. Jason strode towards his office deep in thought, ruminating on what to do first. He had called his captains to his office. It was time to read them into his plans. He would miss Bryce; he was his right hand, but it would do the others good to step up.
He looked up, twisting as Chryllion shoved him from behind. He heard a high-pitched twang and Chryllion deflected a bolt which thudded harmlessly into the wall. Jason dived behind the nearest column before his assailant could reload, calling out to his guards. There was the sound of an altercation on the stairs, and he peered around the column, hefting his dagger ready to throw it if he had a line of sight.
He stood astounded as one of his garrison’s unit leaders was hustled down the stairs between two of the on-duty guards, his face starting to redden from a well-landed punch.
Sentinals Awaken: Book One of the Sentinals Series Page 20
