Title: The Forgotten Shall Rise

Genre: Action/Adventure/Romance

Rating: PG 13

Pairing: *sing-song voice* I'm not telling…

Summary: Keladry finds herself trapped between the threat from Scanra and Galla. When New Hope is attacked, and devastated, she can't even ride off to rescue her people, because this time, they were all killed. When she does something both crazy and extremely stupid, she is ordered away from the battlefield. A squad of the King's Own is to accompany her on the long ride back to Corus. But something unexpected is thrown their way. Besides the obvious, that she wasn't going to go without a fight. Thrown into the lies and deceptions of everyday life, Keladry has to fight for what she believes in, and a way back to the front line.

- - - - -

Chapter 8: Giving Orders

- - - - -

"She tried to kill herself?!"

"It's not what it looks like."

"Isn't it?! To me it looks like a lady knight found war to be too much for her, so she tried to kill herself! What does it look like to you?!" Jon was pacing the floor in front of his office window, every so often he would glance out the window, or slam his fist onto his desk.

"Jon, please, you need to calm down." Alanna watched his walking back and forth, back and forth. The last time he had been this worked up had been, well, when she had stormed into his office with a resignation paper. Thankfully, he hadn't accepted it, and they had worked things out with minimal yelling.

"I can't, you know that Alanna, I can't. What are we going to do?"

"Raoul and Wyldon are sending her back to Corus, we have time." Alanna replied, for once she was calmer than her lifelong friend. It probably wouldn't last long.

"Do we?"

And then she snapped.

"Yes we do! We have to tell the conservatives something before they create a huge mess of lies! We have no idea what they could be planning! Do you really want to find out on their turf?"

Jonathon paused in his pacing to look at his Champion.

"I'm willing to bet it begins and ends with you."

- - - - -

After leaving Sebastian to gather everything he could find about Marking, Neal had hightailed it back to Wyldon's office. If what Sebastian had told them was true, and there was no reason for it not to be, then the young mage was right, they would need more than just ordinary soldiers.

He knocked sharply on the ex-training master's door and then proceeded to barge right in.

"What was the point of knocking Queenscove?" Lord Wyldon asked, sounding more than slightly exasperated. Apparently he had noticed the various stains in his carpet from Sebastian's theatrics just a short while ago. He returned to his desk from his position halfway across the room, presumably there because he had hurried to open the door. He shot Neal a dirty look before taking his seat.

Neal however, was nonplussed. "He's right." He said quickly. Wyldon waited for a further explanation, but when none was offered he rolled his eyes.

"Right about what Queenscove? I presume we are speaking about young Lhocke?"

Neal nodded. "He says it will take more than just soldiers to keep Kel safe." Apparently the news that the gods were planning to kill her had eased his anger with his best friend. It was fortunate that it had, now was not the time for friends to be at odds, especially since one was in such dreadful danger.

"And?" Wyldon resisted the temptation to roll his eyes again. He had seen the young knight do plenty of damage when provoked, and his office had received all the beatings it could take already, courtesy once more of Sebastian of Lhocke.

"I'm going with her." Neal said simply, looking Lord Wyldon in the eye.

"I'm sorry, what?!"

"I'm. Going. With. Kel." Neal paused for a beat. "And so is Sebastian, Dom, and Dom's squad of the King's Own."

Wyldon could feel his eyes popping out of their sockets. "You are in no position to making requests Nealan."

"I'm not making requests, Wyldon. I'm giving orders."

- - - - -

Keladry woke up in an infirmary bed for the second time that day. Only this time around, she was a little less amused. The happenings of the day before were slightly foggy, just like last time. She blinked the sleep out of her eyes, and looked right into the eyes of a healer.

"Hello again, Lady Knight." The healer straightened up again and motioned for her to sit up. He handed her a cup from the cupboard by her bed once she was upright. She looked at it suspiciously before sniffing it.

Once she had, she wished she hadn't.

It smelled like every vile tea she had ever been given mixed together, and then some.

Making a face, she swallowed it in one gulp.

The healer smiled and she felt like decking him over the head. She had the feeling he was one of those people who always knew better, or at least thought they did. She found out for certain when she attempted to stand up.

"Now, now, can't have you going anywhere just yet. You need to wait until we can figure out what's wrong. So why don't you just lie back down and tell me what happened yesterday."

Needless to say, Keladry ignored him.

She found clothes folded neatly and on the seat of a chair against the wall. They weren't any of her clothes, that was for sure, but they looked comfortable enough. They were all made of supple brown leather, a couple of years old at least. There was a tunic, pants (not breeches, oddly enough), boots, and a white shirt for underneath the tunic.

Again ignoring the healer who was making protests in the background, she stepped behind the dressing screen and hurriedly changed. Once again, she couldn't wait to be out of here.

She tossed the nightshirt to the stuttering healer and marched out of the room to find her weapons, and what was going on.

Keladry walked quietly down the hallway, peering around the corners before she turned them. Doubtless, anyone she ran into would send her right back to the infirmary, somewhere she really didn't want to be.

When she at last came to Lord Wyldon's office, after a few close calls, she too didn't bother knocking.

"Queenscove! I thought I told you to knock next time!" Wyldon's head was bent over a pile of papers, and he didn't notice it wasn't the aggravating young healer who had barged into his office, but his best friend.

When Keladry didn't answer, he looked up.

"Oh, Mindelan." He looked at her for a second, clearly wondering why he was surprised to see her in his office. "Why aren't you in the hospital wing?"

"They released me." It wasn't completely a lie, the healer hadn't exactly stopped her. "Where are my weapons?"

Whatever he had been expecting her to ask, this wasn't it. He stared at her dumbly for a second before snapping out of it. "Raoul has them. What are you doing here?" He would have expected Neal to have gone straight to her after his visit here.

"I want to know what's going on. And why I was in the infirmary."

- - - - -

Sebastian had been searching the library for the book on Markings for half an hour now, and he still couldn't find it. Once he found out who had marked the Lady Knight, they could begin to figure out why.

It was an old book, and reasonably rare, but he knew that library had it. He had read it only a short while ago, but not short enough for him to remember it.

Only slightly discouraged, he moved to another section of the library, scanning the titles.

Avenging: Volume I, Gods and Mortals, The Trials of Immortality…

Ah ha! There it was. The Mark of the Gods. And sadly enough, it was exactly where he had left it last time. None the less, he pulled it from the shelf triumphantly and added it to his growing pile.

Already complied in his bag were books on when Gods had walked the Mortal Lands, books going in depth about the Princess Celadora, books about Gods revenges, plots, and plans.

After taking one last book from the shelves, When We Walked As One, Sebastian hurried from the library. He and Neal had agreed they would meet in an empty conference room on the other side of the building, at a time that was currently five minutes away.

While Mastiff kept the title fort, it was more of a town. There was a main building, where they were, which served as a castle of sorts. Around it were all sorts of establishments. Refugees had turned it into their home.

Some commoners from surrounding smaller villages had come to Mastiff, mostly for safety, but also drawn by the business possibilities.

Sebastian had been drawn by the fort's extensive library. He had been to court, and hated every moment of it, here, he had the resources, and half the interruptions.

Cursing the large fort, he finally made it to the predetermined room, quite out of breath, lugging the bag of books, and collapsed into a chair.

After taking a minute to catch his breath, he looked up.

Into the eyes of at least twenty-five total strangers.

"By the Black God…" And he was up and running once again. He realized his mistake almost immediately. Instead of turning left, like he was supposed to, he had turned right, and into the Villagers' Council room.

Retracing his steps, he made it to the proper room without any further mistakes. Gasping for breath, he sat down again and dumped the books onto the table.

"I got all the books."

- - - - -

Keladry watched the tall blond run into the room panting. He was carrying a large bag, which, she learned when he proceeded to empty it onto the table, was full of books.

Lord Wyldon had refused to answer her questions, and had instead taken her with him to this conference room, where Neal, Raoul, and Dom were also waiting.

Waiting for what, she wasn't sure.

She looked at the titles of the books with interest, she still had no idea what this had to do with here.

She didn't recognize a single one.

Keladry looked back to the young man, but before she could ask him who he was, and what exactly he was doing here, and why no one would answer her questions, he introduced himself.

"Sebastian of Lhocke. And you are Lady Knight Keladry of Mindelan."

Wyldon rolled his eyes.

Raoul moved all breakable things away from the excitable young mage.

Keladry just stared at him. "And why exactly are you here?"

Sebastian glared at her. "Well, if you're going to be rude…"

"Give it up Lhocke, just explain." Neal said wearily.

The mage rolled his eyes and picked up one of his books. "Right, ever heard the story of Princess Celadora and the Goddess Marhiv?"

"The story of who?" Keladry asked.

Sebastian looked to the heavens with an exaggerated look of aggravation. "Mithros give me strength, they're all simpletons."

Wyldon hit him with one of his own books.

- - - - -

After explaining the entire story to Keladry, Sebastian turned to her.

"And the point of that was… You've been marked, and we needed to find out by whom, and why, before it's too late."

Keladry nodded. "But that still doesn't explain why I was in the infirmary." She looked to Neal, the only healer present for an explanation. He suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "Come on, out with it!"

Neal looked at her with confusion. "You mean you don't remember?"

"Remember what?! What happened?!" She demanded, becoming extremely agitated. She looked around the room at the others, who looked equally awkward.

Sebastian, however, just looked thoughtful.

"If she doesn't remember… It could have been the god, or goddess, who Marked her working through the Mark. It could have been their will defeating her own, making her do things she wouldn't normally do."

"What things?! What did I do?" Neal squirmed in his seat as her stare settled on him. "What did I do Neal?"

"You tried to kill yourself."

Keladry's gaze dropped and she slumped back in her chair in shock. She stared at the grain of the table as she tried to remember everything that had happened since yesterday.

When she looked up again, her eyes were filled with tears.