Peril of the Crown, page 12
“Has one ever been attacked?”
“Not to my knowledge. Then again, who other than the empire would be foolish enough to challenge the might of a Temple Order?”
They continued down the street, blatant stares marking their progress.
“Perhaps it would have been better had I stayed at the inn,” said Krazuhk.
“Nonsense,” replied Beverly, easily reverting to Orcish. “You are a valued member of our party. If these Temple Knights can’t see that, then they’re not worth speaking with.”
A knight stood on either side of the main door, but at the group’s approach, one entered the commandery.
“That was rude,” said Aldwin. “Don’t they like company?”
“They’re likely warning their superiors,” replied Owen.
“Simply because we’re riding near their commandery?”
“I think,” said Beverly, “they’ve realized we’re riding straight for them. Admittedly, we make quite the sight. I don’t imagine it’s every day they see two knights, an Orc, and a man with your good looks, riding past.”
“Hey, now,” said Aubrey. “What about me?”
“You look like a proper lady, Cousin; as such, you represent the familiar.”
“She means less threatening,” added Aldwin, smiling.
“What are you grinning at?” asked Aubrey.
“Beverly called me good-looking; didn’t you hear?”
The Life Mage shook her head. “Don’t you two ever get tired of all the compliments?”
“Not at all,” they both answered simultaneously. A smile passed between husband and wife, but the remaining guard challenged them before anything further could be said.
“Halt, in the name of Saint Mathew.”
Beverly raised her hand, signalling everyone to stop. “Greetings,” she said. “I am Lady Beverly Fitzwilliam, Baroness of Bodden. I come seeking an audience with whoever is in charge.”
The man looked her over, taking in her armour, his gaze lingering on her shield. “I do not recognize your coat of arms,” he said. “Is that the mark of Saxnor?”
“It is.”
“You are not an adherent of the Saints. Why do you wish to see our captain?”
“We seek only information. I was told your order gathers news from across the Petty Kingdoms.”
“Aye, it does, but such knowledge is not meant for the ears of unbelievers.”
“I am a knight of Erlingen,” replied Owen, “and a devoted servant of the Saints. Can’t you make an exception for these travellers?”
“You are in the presence of an Orc. Are you so foolish to imagine that would be well-received, or are you ignorant of their crimes?”
“Crimes?”
“They obliterated the Holy Army sent to bring the word of the Saints to the east.”
Beverly opened her mouth to speak, but Aubrey quickly intervened. “My pardon,” she said. “I wasn’t aware any Temple Knights of your order fought at the Battle of the Wilderness.”
“They weren’t there,” replied the guard, “but it’s said the entire eastern establishment of the Cunars was wiped out. One does not forget the sacrifices of a brother order.”
The second guard returned with another individual wearing a sash tied around his waist, indicating rank.
“Ah, Captain,” said Owen. “At last, someone with whom we can have an intelligent conversation.”
The Temple Captain clenched his jaw as he surveyed the group. They sat motionless on their mounts, waiting for a greeting, but none appeared forthcoming.
“Captain,” said Owen. “Might I introduce—“
“Quiet,” the fellow snapped. “You have no standing here.”
“I beg your pardon. I am a knight of Erlingen. I have every right.”
“This is a Temple commandery, not the duke’s court. Your standing amongst the nobility of this realm means nothing here.”
“My apologies,” said Beverly. “We did not mean to cause offence.”
“Yet you come here begging for answers. A Temple commandery is not a place of refuge for your kind, nor are they the havens of gossip as you seem to think. Be gone from our doorstep, or my Temple Knights will evict you.”
“This is most unusual,” said Owen. He turned to regard his companions. “Come. It appears the legendary welcoming nature of this order was greatly exaggerated. Let us find somewhere more hospitable.”
They turned their horses around and rode back up the street.
“What was that all about?” asked Aldwin. “I thought you said these Mathewites were friendly?”
“Normally, they are. I don’t know what’s gotten into them.”
“So where do we go now?”
“There’s a tavern up the street if I recall. We passed it on our way here.”
“Yes,” said Aubrey. “The Fox and Hound.”
“You have a good memory.”
“And she’s very observant,” added Beverly. “It’s what sets her apart from the other mages.”
“The Fox and Hound it is, then,” said Owen.
* * *
As far as taverns went, the Fox and Hound was nothing exceptional. The entrance led to a large common area with a fireplace at one end, tables scattered around the room, and a rickety set of stairs leading to the second floor. A door on the right of the entrance opened into the kitchen.
As the group entered, the half-dozen patrons there lapsed into silence. The proprietor must have noted the sudden quieting, for he wandered into the common room to investigate the cause.
“Ah.” He approached them, wiping his hands on a filthy apron. “What can I get for ya?”
“Ale,” replied Owen.
The fellow stared at the Orc. “For all of ya?”
“Indeed.” The knight noted the man’s hesitancy. “I assure you, we have ample coins, if that’s your worry.”
The fellow knuckled his forehead. “Of course, my lord. I’ll see to it right away.” He went back into the kitchen, his bulk making the floorboards creak.
“Let’s get a seat, shall we?” Owen selected one close to the fire, giving those nearby a good stare. “This is none of your concern,” he said. “Be about your own business.”
They squeezed in around an empty table. The place smelled of sweat and stale beer, not the nicest of combinations.
“What do we do now?” said Aldwin.
“I say we continue north,” replied Beverly. “It appears we’ll get no answers from the Temple Knights here.”
“I could always try the duke,” offered Owen. “I am a knight, after all.”
“A knight errant, not a member of his order of chivalry. Knights of the Sceptre, wasn’t it?”
“Indeed, though I’m still puzzled why the Temple Captain treated us so callously.”
“Perhaps I can answer that?” A man in a brown cassock, with an axe in his belt, stood in the doorway.
“Can I help you?” asked Owen.
“I doubt that very much, but perhaps I can be of assistance to you.” He moved closer. “My pardon, I should have introduced myself. I’m Brother Cyric, a Temple Knight of Saint Mathew.”
“You’re not dressed like a Temple Knight.”
“I’m not on duty at the moment. I assume you’re the group who tried to visit the commandery?”
“We are. What of it?”
“I couldn’t help but overhear your exchange with Temple Captain Alonso.”
“You were there?”
“I was. I happened to be visiting on the regional commander’s behalf. I act as one of his aides from time to time.”
“You work for the Temple Commander?”
“I do. Father Roland. Do you know him?”
“Not personally,” replied Owen, “but I believe he’s been in his current position for a while.”
“That he has,” said Cyric.
“I’m curious why Captain Alonso was so hostile towards us. Did we upset him somehow?”
“Ah, the good captain’s brother died in the east some years ago.”
“At the Battle of the Wilderness?”
“Precisely. I imagine seeing your Orc friend there reminded him of that loss.”
“I wasn’t aware the Mathewites served in the east?”
“They didn’t, at least not officially. Alonso’s brother was a Cunar. Such a terrible waste of life, but the Crusade shouldn’t have been called in the first place—”
“Wait a moment,” interrupted Aubrey. “You said you weren’t on duty, yet you claim to have been visiting with the Temple Captain when we were there.”
“I suppose that requires some explanation. Part of my duties to the regional commander include investigating matters for the order. I’m not at liberty to discuss those with outsiders, but I’ve often found that people are more accommodating when I’m not wearing my armour. Not to sidestep your interest any further, but might I enquire what you were trying to ascertain at the commandery?”
“We were seeking news,” said Owen.
“May I sit?”
“Of course.”
They waited as the Temple Knight pulled up a chair. He nodded towards Owen. “You’re from Erlingen, but I sense the rest of you are far from home.”
“How could you possibly know that?” said Beverly.
“Your armour, while well-crafted, is of an older design. There is also the matter of your shield, which, amongst its heraldry, includes the mark of Saxnor, one of the old Gods.” He held up his hands. “I say this only as an observation, not a criticism. In addition, you travel accompanied by an Orc, a most uncommon sight in this part of the Continent.” He let his gaze swivel to Aldwin. “Then there’s you, a man of Therengian descent who is married to you.” He looked back at Beverly. “Unless it’s common for two people to wear matching rings for other reasons? And if I’m not mistaken, those are made of skystone, although you might know it by another name.”
“Remarkable,” said Aldwin. “Is there anything else you’d care to observe?”
“There’s a slight resemblance between you two ladies. Are you cousins, perhaps?”
“My name is Beverly Fitzwilliam, and this is my cousin, Lady Aubrey Brandon, and my husband, Aldwin Fitzwilliam. This other gentleman is Sir Owen.”
“Your speech indicates you are a person of means,” said Cyric, “yet your husband’s manner of speaking is more common. I assume he was not noble born?”
“I was not,” replied Aldwin. “Does that matter?”
“Not to me, I assure you. I’m afraid I’m not familiar with social norms concerning Orcs. Might I ask who your friend is?”
“Krazuhk, a master of air from the Sky Singers, a tribe found in Deisenbach.”
“Deisenbach? My, you’ve come a long way. You didn’t run across Temple Captain Giselle, did you? She and I go way back.”
“We did, as a matter of fact,” replied Beverly.
“This is all very impressive,” said Aubrey, “but you indicated that perhaps you could help us?”
“I did, didn’t I? I’ve travelled extensively, and part of my responsibilities includes collating information for Father Roland. Sorry, I should say, Temple Commander Roland. He gets a little fussy over titles from time to time. Is this to do with the invasion?”
“Invasion?” said Owen. “Do you mean to suggest the empire has reached the borders of Erlingen?”
“No, but I fear it’s only a question of time until the duke gets dragged into the latest Halvarian war. He’s obviously expecting to march soon, as he’s already begun massing his army.”
“Captain Sturgess seemed to think His Grace was already prepared to march.”
“That would be the belief of most, but he won’t move west until his barons assemble their forces.” He hesitated. “Might I ask why it’s of interest to your group?”
“Our home is at war with the empire,” said Beverly. “We’re from a land called Merceria, which lies far to the west.”
“Would that be near Weldwyn, perhaps?”
“You know of it?”
“I’m friends with a ship captain who has travelled those waters, though admittedly, I’ve not seen him in some years.”
“Merceria shares its western border with Weldwyn. Our queen is married to their king.”
“How intriguing. I should very much like to visit it sometime.”
“You’d have a hard time,” said Aldwin. “The empire’s invaded us.”
“When did this come about?”
“At the onset of winter.”
“A curious time to launch a campaign of conquest.”
“That’s what we thought,” said Beverly. “We expected them to wait until spring.”
“That would have been the wisest move, but the Halvarians like to keep their enemies on their toes. I’m curious, however, why they would invade the Petty Kingdoms while still fighting in the west. I assume your kingdom is resisting the invasion.”
“It is. We’re a warrior culture, descendants of mercenaries who fled to our land almost a thousand years ago. We won’t surrender.”
“The invasion of your homeland is a great tragedy. I assume you’re trying to find a way home?”
“We are. How did you know?”
“Your manner. You’re still adjusting to life in the Petty Kingdoms, which indicates you haven’t been here long.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I saw the face your husband made when he drank his ale. I’m guessing they don’t put spices in your drink where you’re from.”
“They don’t,” admitted Aldwin.
“Might I make a suggestion?”
“By all means,” replied Beverly, “though we’re under no obligation to agree to it.”
Cyric smiled. “Well said. I was going to suggest I bring you to meet with Temple Commander Roland. I think he would be most helpful to you.”
“Surely you’re not suggesting we take up arms under the banner of your order?”
“No, but if your home to the west is under attack, it would be in your best interest to hurt the empire here, on the Continent. If nothing else, it might draw off some of the empire’s legions from your homeland.”
“What makes you think we want to fight?”
“Your armour, though decorative, has obviously seen many a battle. The workmanship is exceptional, but I know my armour, and there are signs the original design was modified to allow more freedom of movement.”
“How do you know so much about armour?” asked Owen. “I thought Temple Knights of Saint Mathew only wore mail?”
“We do,” said Cyric, “but I wasn’t always a Temple Knight. Now, what do you think of my idea? Would you be willing to sit down with my superior to discuss the possibility of aiding us in our time of need? After all, not only is Erlingen going to war, but the Temple Knights will be joining… well… two of the orders, at least.”
“We’ll have to discuss this amongst ourselves first.”
“Fair enough. I shall arrange a meeting with Father Roland for two days hence, say, at noon? I’ll understand if you decide not to accept my offer.”
“Where do we find this Temple Commander of yours?”
“His offices are at the Cathedral of Saint Mathew. It’s the largest building in all of Torburg. Simply head towards the centre of town; you can’t miss it.” With that, he rose, then stopped. “I hope this won’t be the last I see you, but regardless of your decision, I wish you well.”
* * *
A pair of grey-cloaked figures waited outside the Fox and Hound. “Is that him?” asked the shorter one as Cyric left the building.
“Aye. He’s the troublemaker.”
“He doesn’t look so dangerous to me.”
“Looks can be deceiving. The danger isn’t in his skill at arms, it’s what he might uncover. Our master has put considerable effort into convincing the good Captain Alonso to refrain from committing his company to the coming campaign. I should hate to see that undone by anyone, especially a simple Temple Knight.”
“What of his superior?”
“Roland? You know as well as I that his order is only permitted here in Erlingen if he keeps them out of trouble. Besides, I doubt he’ll want to commit to a war that might find them facing off against the Cunars.”
The shorter fellow grinned. “So, they’ve committed to our cause?”
“If by ‘committed’, you mean they’ve agreed to remain neutral, then yes.”
“Neutral? I thought they were going to join us?”
“And they likely will, but at present, they serve our purpose better by giving our enemies hope. Then, when the moment is ripe, they’ll turn on them to the ruin of the Petty Kingdoms.”
“And what about those people he met with?”
“They could prove troublesome. It might be a good idea to see them eliminated.”
“I wager it’ll take more than a few to bring down that knight.”
“Sir Owen is not particularly known as a great swordsman,” said the taller of the two.
“I was talking about the woman, Lady Beverly. If you recall, we were warned she might show up here. You don’t think Brother Cyric passed something on to them, do you?”
“No. He works for the Church. If he’s discovered anything noteworthy, he would head straight to his superior.”
“Still, I don’t like it. It can’t be a coincidence that the two people we’re to keep an eye out for are here in Torburg at the exact same time.”
“A good point. Best we assemble the others.”
“To take them out?”
“We’ll watch until an opportunity presents itself.”
Thirteen
Summersgate
Winter 967 MC
Gerald waited as the light dissipated from the magic circle.
“We have arrived,” announced Albreda. “If you’ll excuse me, Your Majesty, I must rest and recover my strength.”
“I understand,” replied Anna. “And once again, thank you. I know this takes a toll on you.”
“I’ll admit it’s a bit draining, but it’s nice to be back in the Dome.”
“The Dome,” said Gerald. “I still find that name strange.”
