Chapter 10: Against the Wall

Mathias' make-shift room was just barely lit by two candles arranged at its center. All across the floor, spread about almost randomly, were familiar but not identical arcane circles painted and etched. Open books and strange objects were quite purposely placed around them. This time there were little urns placed in the four corners of the room, all of them held smoldering incenses and herbs, a different mixture in each. It cast a white-gray haze over the already heavy darkness.

Mathias stood near the center of the room, on the north side of the largest of the glyph-filled circles, which contained more of the symbols than any of the others. In front of him was the strange clear-white crystal he had received in the trunk at the monastery many years prior. Blood was already smeared across floor around it, Mathias's own.

Mathias spoke, this time in ancient Latin, "Veni ergo fructum Lilim" The boards of the floor creaked, and the stone of the walls groaned subtly. Something suddenly twisted out of the darkness on the south side of the central circle. It materialized out of the shadow in a bizarre motion that approximated curling flesh. It was a horrid pale form, a frail, satanic-like demon.

It was naked, with a yellow hued white skin, hoofed feet, and long thin claws protruding from its long gnarled fingers. Atop its shoulders sat a terrible horned head, with protruding blank white eyes, and a skeletal nose. It mimicked a look of advanced decay, but in truth had never lived nor died. It had withered, almost vestigial vile versions of female breasts and genitalia.

Mathias spoke at it stoically, his words brimming with anger and authority, "Strenuus de Gant in deliciis lapidis."

It snarled and hissed, then in a high pitched whisper it growl out it's words, "Quid tibia cum Mercedes?"

This demon was of a completely different type, of a completely different plane, than any that Mathias had dealt with previously. It was more in direct confrontation with the God he meant to serve, but he had been left with little choice. He replied sternly, almost angrily. "Animus." He paused, "Multas."

The creature moved as if it were unaccustomed to how such things functioned in our world. It was all small, quick, jerking motions that yanked its body around in frightening, sudden motion. It was akin to an early stop motion animation, unnatural, choppy, somehow off. In one such movement its head jerked and place the dead blank gaze directly into Mathias' eyes. It spoke in that same terrible high pitched whispering growl. The tone clearly questioned, "Innocentum?"

Mathias breathed deeply, a combination of and anger, fear, desperation burned in his chest and drove him forward. The fear most powerful of all, but it was not fear of this thing, nor fear for himself. He answered, "Etiam."

The creature's face twisted, the edges of its mouth arched up slowly, baring a messy jumbled of long jagged teeth. It was a mockery of a smile. The next question came out louder, in a deep growl, "Quid ch movet?"

Mathias did not reply immediately, his face grew harder still. The dealings he found himself in now were much more complicated than those he had made previously. He knew that they may extract a heavier toll as well. His mind went back to the events of the previous day, to the reason he was here now.

Mathias stood inside his room, it was still daytime and the light spilled in through the semi-boarded window. They were making camp in a small village a few miles from the front. They had made good progress through the previous weeks. Largely thanks to Mathias and by extension his men, their mission in the holy land had been gaining surprising leads. With the glaring exception of one city, Antioch, which had sat under siege for months to no avail.

He stood in front of a small dresser that had been reclaimed from one of the ruined homes in the small village. The room also had a small bed and desk, far less luxurious than some of the encampments he had been in recently, but familiar. It was strikingly similar to his childhood room back at the Monastery, a place that seemed a lifetime ago to him now.

On top of the desk and spilling onto the bed were several open books, some that had been in his possession since he received the trunk so many years ago. Some of them had come from what little Barten's conjurer had with him the day he was slain. Others still had been plundered from the witch's lair he had recently taken. It was a rapidly expanding collection that was on its way towards becoming among the grandest of its type on the world.

"Lord Cronqvist!" A call came from outside the tent. It was not wholly urgent, but held a strange sense of importance. It rang with the seeking of permission, somehow Mathias knew it was not to be good news.

"Enter." He called in response after collecting and covering the books with a large table cloth. As the soldier entered the tent Mathias turned around, he saw that it was one of the escorts he had sent back with Elisabetha, to see her safely back home. He was surprised and worried to see the man here now, "I did not expect to see you back so soon. Is everything alright with my wife, with my child?"

The man frowned, his expression was that of fear, of a desire to not give the news that he knew he must. He spoke slowly and stuttered, "I... I am afraid... not sir. Your... your wife... she has... fallen ill sir."

Mathias's eyes widened and he gasped in through his nose, the man continued, "Her symptoms... they began just as we... just as we reached the outskirts of home." He took a deep breath, and collected himself, managing to deliver the rest of the message more steadily, "I made as much haste as I could to relay the information quickly. She requests your presence. You should be able to arrive just around the time of the birth. If you leave soon."

Mathias, a man who had seen things more horrors, both earthly and other worldly, than all but a handful of men in all the history of man, was struck speechless with terror. His chest filled with a heavy burning heat, an abject despair. He just barely could hold himself together, "Thank you Reginald." He managed out after a moment of silent hyperventilation. He was sweating profusely, dizzy almost to the point of stumbling.

He looked up at the messenger, "Leave me please. I must reflect." Reginald seemed worried by the reaction, but followed the order, Mathias pulled himself to his chair and fell into it. He placed as hand over his eyes and inhaled deeply. He knew that he had no time for a proper reaction, nor proper preparation. He would have to come up with a plan on the way.

About an hour later Mathias was on horse back with a small personal guard, riding to meet with his own commanders, the highest ranking members of the Christian military force in the area. Cardinal Randolph was chief among them. He was in charge of all military operations in the area. Mathias was not entirely certain why he had been summoned, but he went with the hopes of requesting a leave of absence so that he may return home to see to his wife and the birth of his child.

After a long ride he came to the highest level headquarters in the area. It was a massive, borderline ancient church, the name of which Mathias did not even know. It had long since passed its prime, many old thick vines still clung to it. The circumstances of the day marked it with one last great responsibility. It stood tall, mostly intact, fearlessly among the ruins of an old town. It was heavily guarded. There were at least a dozen soldiers visible just in front of it, and at least twice as many visible scattered out in all directions.

Mathias dismounted and was quickly welcomed through the perimeter. One of the soldiers took his horse and escort and led them to the nearby stable. Mathias's reputation was well known to Christendom in the area, the soldiers all stared at him with a combination of admiration and fear. He looked back at them and could see the reaction. Under normal circumstances it would have been something he enjoyed.

He entered through the large doors into the wide, open main hall of the church. Priests, generals stood at the far end, near the alter, all standing around a podium, the Cardinal at the front, discussing strategy. They turned as they noticed Mathias enter. The Cardinal nodded at the others and said something that Mathias could not quite hear. All but the Cardinal and two others left the room. The three that remained were the most well dressed, clearly of the highest titles.

When Mathias came up to the podium they all stood down at what was upon it, it was a small map of the local area. The map was focused squarely on the city of Antioch, the largest urban center the Muslims had in the immediate area. It had plagued their forces for months. The soldiers could not break through its defenses of thick trenches and walls, and the near constant stream of reinforcements. It remained besieged.

"Welcome, Mr. Cronqvist." Cardinal Randolph said as Mathias walked up to the podium. The others bowed in respect.

"Thank you, Your Eminence. It is my honor to be here." Mathias bowed as well. He was devoid of his usual edge, exceptionally eager to fall into the Cardinal's good graces, already beginning to worry that the reason for his being their would conflict with what he knew he needed to do.

"Gentlemen," The Cardinal turned to the other two men, "This is Baron Mathias Cronqvist." He looked back at Mathias, "He is probably the primary reason our forces have not fallen to the satanic barbarians." The two men bowed, and Cardinal Randolph continued, You have done very well for yourself and your company Baron Cronqsist."

Mathias''s normal pride was nowhere to be seen, he did his best to approximate it, "Thank you, Your Eminence. Myself, and I assure you my company, appreciate the compliment greatly."

"It is very well earned, son." He turned back to the remaining two men, "This is Count Sebastian Lionel, and Duke Bernard Rhamsey. They have been heading up one of our many larger scale operations in the area."

"You have proven quite an impressive tactician." The Duke unsurprisingly spoke first "And this Lion I have heard of? He fights in your ranks does he not?"

"Leon, yes, Baron Leon Belmont." Mathias was just able to disguise how troubled he was, "We are actually very old friends, closer to brothers really."

The Duke laughed, as did his Count, who then added in, "I have heard sending him into combat is like loosing a lion on the heathens."

The Cardinal brought them back to the issue at hand, "We have called you here Mathias exactly because of your reputation as a tactician, a planner as well as a leader."

Mathias leaned over a little closer in order to better see the map. He knew that it had already been a months long siege, and that leadership in Rome was growing increasingly impatient about it. As always, he had a plan, a plan to steer him through and take him to his goal, "Yes , thank you, Your Eminence. I am happy to serve you however I can."

The Cardinal smiled, "I think you may already have an idea of why he have asked you here today." He turned to the map, "I assume you already know a little about the situation at Antioch?"

"I do." Mathias replied, "I know it is a large Muslim city that we have been set to capture for many months, to no avail. Though I have never gotten a good look into the city's design nor its defenses."

The Duke interrupted, "Well now you have got both. We have been led to believe that you are capable of great things Master Cronqvist. As your surname suggests."

Mathias's heart pounded harder. He had already been heavily stressed by the news of Elisabetha, the predicament of trying to get to her, and now added to that this Duke's apparent knowledge of the Cronqvist family. That could mean many thing. He continued to stare down at the map trying to keep his gaze from giving away the true state of his mind. He finally spoke, whilst simultaneously planning carefully in his head, "You wish for my counsel? I will happily write up a plan of action. Sieges... Sieges are all about stable repetition, consistent, unwavering pressure."

"Actually Mathias," The Cardinal spoke now with a different tone, a proud air of authority and graciousness, as if he were presenting Mathias with some kind of prestigious award, "We have something much bigger in mind for you." He was grinning ear to ear.

Mathias's heart sank. He knew what the Cardinal was about to say. It was something that mere hours earlier would have been counted among the best news of his life, but now something he would have to cleverly deflect.

"We want you to lead the siege, my child. Officially." The Cardinal beamed with pride, "You would command a force much larger than any you have before, a force numbering in the thousands." He paused for a moment to let Mathias take it in, "It is a crucial step towards becoming a Count."

Mathias's gaze stayed completely focused on the map, he did not say anything. It was a surprising reaction to say the least. After a few moments he replied, "I am sure that I can solve whatever problems you are having." It was an inexact response, he needed more time. Mathias's surprising lack of enthusiasm was at least temporarily chalked up to his storied hard demeanor.

"The problem is simple." Said Count Lionel, "Every time we get a good foot hold in, another relieving force arrives, and loses us all of our progress."

"And these are the defenses?" Mathias pointed down to scribbled walls and ditches sprawled across the map in front of the city.

"Yes." The Count continued, "The ditches are death traps, we have tried to scale the walls with ladders but the pits impede us. And the men inside are well prepared for us."

"Alright." Mathias put his hand on his chin and stared off into nothing, his mind was churning at its highest level, "It is a siege, so the principals are fairly simple, merely scaled for the circumstances." He looked up at the three men, "You must merely decide what is more important to you, time or men? Either push through with a larger force, sacrificing more to break through, or keep on mostly as you are, and wait them out."

"Baron Cronqvist..." The Cardinal spoke with a hint of concern in his voice, "You speak as if you will not be present. This is to be your siege to lead." He shook his head, "I assumed you would be quite excited by the prospect."

Mathias looked up at the Cardinal for a moment, the sorrow of his situation almost breaking out from behind the facade of his face. He then quickly glanced back down at the map as if he were thinking about it. In truth his mind was focused solely on Elisabetha, and getting back to her, "I appreciate greatly this honor, Your Eminence."

He looked up at Cardinal Randolph, "But I... I do not believe my presence in this conflict is necessary, nor that it would help any more than would my simple advice and a thoroughly written battle plan, which I can easily provide tonight. I just..." He paused for a short moment, they were all taken aback by his apparent refusal, "I was hoping for permission to take a brief leave of absence. My wife is with child, and apparently has fallen rather ill. She waits for me. She needs me."

There was a long tense silence where no one seemed to want to take up the conversation. It was finally the Cardinal that replied, "Baron Cronqvist... I understand your situation, I truthfully do..."

Before he could continue Mathias cut him off, "Please, Your Eminence. I... I..." Mathias was a man who rarely if ever fumbled his words. This was a type of terror and desperation that he had never known before, "I have to go to her. She is so vulnerable without me."

"Master Cronqvist..." The Cardinal dropped Mathias's title and spoke to him, while still with a caring and soft tone, like a much lower man, "I am sorry. We are all of us making sacrifices for our glorious purpose, for our glorious lord, God."

Mathias exhaled quickly with exasperation, he spoke frantic and bordered on anger "I have done and given as much as any other in all of this holy army. All in the service of the church, of God. I have never wavered, never failed." He took a deep breath, and calmed himself, at least externally, "Can you not grant me this one mercy?"

The Cardinal had grown increasingly less patient with the protest, "If you need to go so badly than I advise you to handle the situation quickly. There will be no further discussion on this."

Mathias knew that any further protest would be useless, that it may even in fact worsen his situation. If he could not change the Cardinals mind he may at least be able to pry some favor and resources out of him, "What kind of increase in numbers can I expect to receive?"

The Cardinal had already turned to discuss something with the Duke. He turned back to Mathias with a slight look of disgust, all air of respect and cordiality gone, "None. In fact you must find a way to make do with fewer." With the quick flippant response the Cardinal turned back to his conversation. Mathias stood there for a moment in a state akin to shock. After a brief time to gather himself he exited the church.

Mathias left the building and stomped angrily back out to where the guards were keeping his horse and his men. He took the reigns of his horse more harshly than he normally would. His men could not help but notice their commander's state. The ride back was filled with deep thought and a quiet rage. Mathias had to get back to Elisabetha, and he was sure that there was a way, somewhere buried in his new wealth of knowledge.

It had not taken him long to do so. A similar incantation, slightly different runes and glyphs, a different entity to deal with, but he managed it quickly. He now stood in the middle of the ritual necessary to carry out his plans. The shriveled demon in front of him repeated its words, barking them out this time as if annoyed by Mathias's pause, "Quid ch movet?"

Mathias looked back up at the demon, at its putrid, white, bulging, over-sized eyes. From a biological standpoint they did not even appear to function, reminiscent of the damaged eyes of someone blinded in an accident or the vestigial organs of a creature that had long since fled the light. He answered, "De vecitigal est anima mea."

The demon nodded and again curled its horrid lips into a vulgar smile. Even worse still was the dissonant chocking wheeze that meant to be a laugh. It kneeled down slowly beside the crystal. It placed its thin clawed fingers over it and began to quietly chant in some other unknown ancient language much more antiquarian than Latin. It seemed as if it were praying.

The exchange went on long into the night. More was said, more was traded, more was prayed over. In the morning Mathias would have what he needed to execute his plan, and little more to do in preparation for it. He knew it would work. It would allow him to return home swiftly, and see to Elisabetha's illness and the birth of their child personally. It was worth it, whatever the cost...