I have to admit that I'm a little disappointed with the fact that after nearly 250 hits, there are only four reviews. I would ask, as people are obviously reading this, that you let me know what you think. Even if a simple 'Good Job'/'Bad Job' comment can be helpful. If you like it, please tell me why. If you don't... tell me why. I haven't read too many of the apparently numerous versions of fiction concerning this particularly story, so I don't really know if I'm entirely ripping off another author or not. If I am, please point it out. Also note, though, that I usually only post a chapter after the next two are already completed, so suggestions and the like will probably not be addressed immediately.
Gilanor25: Thank you ever so much for your proof-reading and reviews, as well as your pointing out of the parts you particularly like. It's, as always, appreciated.
NinjaGaiden357: Parings are treading dangerous ground when you consider the fanbase of this particular series. Nothing, as of yet, is concrete... nor should it be obvious (if it is, I messed up somewhere). I'm a little new to writing romance, so any that appears, at least in the first part, will be limited.
Anyway, I'm done. Enjoy chapter 3.
Sain awoke with a start, noticing instantly that something was amiss
Sain awoke with a start, noticing instantly that something was amiss. For starters, he wasn't in his bedroll, where he by all means should have been. Secondly, he wasn't even lying down; he was propped up against his lance in what might have been a sitting position… if he hadn't fallen asleep.
He snapped awake and sat up straight, nervously casting a glance towards Kent only to find him still asleep. With an obvious sigh of relief he sagged back into a more comfortable position. He wasn't sure what time it was, but the glow on the horizon told him that he'd cut it much too close.
If Kent had caught me sleeping while on watch, he'd have skewered me outright!
"Oh, good, you're awake."
"Huh?" glancing around Sain understood that he wasn't the only one out of bed, but an initial inspection wasn't enough to pinpoint the source of the voice.
"I was going to wake you in a few minutes anyway." Mark unfurled his cloak and stood up, revealing his position. "Even I wouldn't wish your companion's ire against you any more than it already seems to be."
Sain was amazed as he saw the figure appear before him from what moments before had appeared to be just another lump of rock in the dark.
"Don't worry, I've been keeping the watch. We were undisturbed in the night."
"Oh…" Sain replied, still half asleep, "thanks."
"Not a problem… I was up anyway," Mark grinned down at the young knight, "unlike everyone else around here."
Sain looked back at him sheepishly. "You're not going to tell him, are you?"
"For a price."
"Heh, you extortionist," Sain said accusingly.
Mark shrugged, "Hey, a man's gotta make a living somehow."
"Are you serious?" Sain asked, beginning to wonder if he really would require a fee to keep quiet. Maybe Kent was right about this guy, he's probably some sort of con artist.
Mark laughed, easily seeing the train of thought crossing the young man's face. "No," he said, assuaging any worries the other man might have had. "If we're going to be companions on this journey I don't think it'd be best for me to start off our relationship with a little blackmail." Mark turned towards the horizon where the glow of the rising sun was steadily growing brighter.
"Do you think we should wake them?" Sain asked.
"Nah… let them sleep a little longer. Kent'll need all the energy he can get to maintain that dashing personality of his, and I'll be willing to bet that Lyn's sleep has been restless enough as it is."
Sain had to laugh, "You're probably right, at least you've already come to understand my dear companion."
Mark gave him a smug sidelong glance, "Don't think you've been any harder to comprehend… at least on the surface."
Sain shrugged good-naturedly. "What can I say? I'll willingly admit that I'm a sucker for a pretty face."
"I guess I can't fault you for that," Mark consented, "but I have to admit that your methods are a little unorthodox… and rather ineffective."
Sain waved off the comment, "Ah, I just need to find a girl who can take a compliment." He stood up and stretched, there was no point in trying to fight it any longer, the day was arriving. He fetched himself some water from a nearby pouch. "What about you? What's your story?"
"My story?"
"Well, we came to this place following the reports of a lone girl out in the plains, but lo and behold we find her not alone, but accompanied by one such as yourself… someone who she seems to have quite an attachment to."
"If you're trying to tip the scales in your favor I'd suggest against it… Lyn isn't your type… or rather, you're not quite her type."
Sain shrugged again, "I can be flexible."
"Yeah," Mark scoffed. "I'll believe that when I see it. Anyway," he turned to gaze at Lyn, still sleeping despite the growing light, "I'm not quite sure myself how this happened. We haven't been traveling together for very long to be honest. She bailed me out of a tight spot, and inasmuch as my own plans at the time had been suddenly shattered, I figured some company was better than none at all."
"Good choice," Sain said, winking at him.
"Don't get the wrong idea, Sain," Mark replied in annoyance. "Our relationship is not like that, we were just two lone people that circumstance happened to throw together."
"Yeah, and I'll believe that when I see it," Sain scoffed back at him. "In my opinion there's no such thing as coincidence, certainly not for someone who seems to plan everything out like you do."
It was Mark's turn to shrug. "You judge me too quickly, but I suppose you'll have plenty opportunity in the next few months to figure it out for yourself. I'll just say that when one finds his life has been suddenly and drastically altered, it can cause him to become someone else overnight."
"Can't say I've experienced anything like that," Sain said, almost apologetically, but not quite.
"Well, that's obvious. I certainly can't see anyone changing into someone like you… that mannerism is usually what sparks the change."
"Funny."
Mark smirked, "Yeah, I thought it was."
Sain turned to watch the sun rise himself, unsure what to think of this man that Kent was so suspicious of. "So do you really intend to come with us all the way to Caelin?"
Mark looked stoic, "At Lyn's request, yes."
"You seem a little… unwilling." Sain noted. He was rewarded with a strange expression from Mark that he couldn't quite read.
"No, not unwilling; a little unsure... perhaps."
"What about?"
"The future, I guess," was the cryptic response.
Sain gave his new companion a sidelong glance. He's definitely hiding something, I can see where Kent gets that idea… but it's strange. It's as if he doesn't care that we know, almost as if he wants us to understand that, if we can't know his secrets, at least we know about them.
"Does this have anything to do with that life-altering event that you've hinted at?" Sain's prying questions were finally rewarded as Mark's shoulders sagged visibly.
"You might say that. I owe Lyn my life, it's only right that I use it for her benefit." Mark paused for a moment as the first rays of the rising sun finally found the edge of the shadows and fell across his face. He closed his eyes and took it in, feeling the warmth of a new day. "I don't have much to offer her," he continued after a moment, "but she was in need of a companion and I was in need of a goal… I guess we've kind of filled in the gap of the other, at least for the moment."
"I still say you lucked out. I'm sure there are many men who'd give everything to be in your position, myself included."
Mark rolled his eyes at the simplicity of the other's thought patterns. "You needn't think so. Our relationship is founded on loneliness and tragedy. It is yet fragile… should one or the other be resolved it will probably weaken."
"Ahhh…" Sain responded with a smug look. "Suddenly it all becomes clear. You don't want to take her to Caelin because once we're there she wont be alone anymore, which could knock you out of the picture."
Mark's face fell into the palm of his hand and he shook his head, not believing what he'd just heard. "You haven't been listening to a thing I've said, have you?"
"Huh?"
"Exactly," Mark chuckled… these knights would be interesting company indeed. He sat before the rising sun for a moment longer, then walked back to the camp and began to place what was left of the wood he'd been able to gather the night before into the fire pit. "Anyway, we'd probably better get started making breakfast. I imagine your hungry after the activity of yesterday."
"I'm starving," Sain had to agree, "But you don't have to worry about us. Kent and I have our own supplies."
"Fair enough, but at least help me get this fire started. I'm sure even you intend to use that."
They were moving shortly thereafter, the knights not wanting to remain in one place for too long lest they be found out; but they weren't quite sure exactly why they had started out in a different direction than they had anticipated.
"Why again are we headed northeast instead of southwest like we should be?" Sain whispered to Kent as they moved through the fields of the plains.
Kent groaned for the umpteenth time that morning, "I already told you I don't know. Why don't you go ask our illustrious leader?"
Sain blinked, a little surprised at Kent's overly sarcastic tone, but he let it slide. "Okay," he said, and reined his horse back to fall in line with Mark, who was once more pulling up the rear of the group.
"So, why again are we headed northeast instead of southwest like we should be?" he repeated.
"I don't know."
"You don't… wait, what? Then why–?"
"Lyn wanted to make a quick stop before she left Sacae. She said it wouldn't be far. If you want more information, you'll have to ask her."
"You mean, we're headed this way, and none of us know why?"
"Look, she's never been away from the plains before, I figured there was something she'd want to do before leaving. Besides, it might just be for the best. If anyone was still looking for us, and they realized who you were and what you're here for, they'd expect us to head immediately towards Caelin… this way we may be able to throw them off for a bit, at least."
"Uh… wouldn't that just give them the opportunity to better prepare for our arrival?"
"Well, yeah… probably." Mark admitted. "So I'll fall back on the excuse that Lyn wanted to come here… blame her."
"Hey! I can hear everything you're saying, Mark!" Lyn said from the front of the line with a scowl on her face.
"I know," Mark grinned back at her.
Lyn rolled her eyes and continued onward. "Anyway, we're almost there, you can see it now."
Looking ahead the other three could indeed decipher the silhouettes of several buildings on the horizon. As they approached Mark took note that despite the fact that it didn't seem to be much more than a resting area or outpost, there was a small commercial presence nonetheless. The obvious landmark of the town was a large building on the east side; it appeared to be a temple of sorts.
"What is this place?" Sain asked, perplexed that Lyn would place a seemingly great amount of importance to such a small village. "It doesn't seem like anything special."
"This place happens to be very important to me." Lyn shot back. "You don't have to enter it if you don't want to. I just thought I'd give you two an opportunity to re-supply, being that you had to leave Bulgar at such short notice."
"I appreciate the concern Lady Lyndis," Kent offered, "but it really wasn't necessary–"
"Don't tell me it wasn't necessary," Lyn interrupted him. "You were eating dried bread crusts for breakfast! If you won't let us share our supplies you should at least stock your own."
They approached the gates where Lyn and the knights began to make arraignments for their animals to be kept at a nearby community stable. Mark noticed the distinct lack of inns, or other overnight resting places, suggesting that all who ventured here did so for brief moments. Given the village's proximity to Bulgar, it wasn't that difficult to believe, as a round trip could easily be done within a day's time. Interestingly enough, there were several residential areas, though nothing too expansive.
Travelers were no strangers to this place, obviously, as the stables were well kept and the attendants were quite used to people coming and going. Several conversations involving such travelers were being carried around him, and one in particular caught his ears. He must have been a fellow traveler, but obviously not a native to Sacae.
"… the attendants at Bulgar highly recommended I should see this place before returning to my homeland," the traveler was explaining to one of the stable attendants. "They say there is an altar here of particular interest to the people."
"Do you know much about the sword held at the altar?" the attendant asked in turn.
"They had mentioned a sword, but I didn't really understand what that was all about. So it rests upon the alter, you say?"
"Yes sir, it's called the Mani Katti, they say it's blessed by the spirits."
"Really?" the visitor was intrigued now. "Is that why it is given such prominence in this society?"
The attendant nodded. "People come here to pray for safety or good luck, but the sword itself seems to have a purpose of its own. According to the priest, the Mani Katti is waiting for its rightful owner to appear. I myself have wondered about that… it's so odd, don't you think? The idea that a sword can choose who will wield it?"
Mark tuned the conversation out at this point as he suddenly remembered something that Lyn had mentioned to him on the road to Bulgar. Somewhere she had wanted to go before they truly began their journey together.
Finally, once their animals were settled, the group started off towards the small commercial center. As they passed a main road leading to the east, however, Lyn began to slow her pace. The others were already several steps ahead of her before noticing her hesitation.
"Mark," she said, almost shyly, "hold a moment, and allow me a short detour."
Mark smiled, knowing now what she was about. "Shall I accompany you?" he offered.
She paused, blushing slightly "That's… really not necessary, but I can't very well deny you if you wish to."
"You needn't be embarrassed Lyn, I myself understand the connection to the spirits of the land of one's birth, if they can help you in this journey, then I will only be more than willing to seek their aid with you."
"Wait…" left out of the loop again, Sain was utterly confused. "What's going on… where are you going?"
Lyn explained, "There is a sacred sword enshrined in an altar east of here. The people of Sacae go there to pray for safety at the onset of a long journey."
"Oh! How quaint!" came Sain's reply, and Mark saw Lyn's expression turn from slightly embarrassed to fully indignant. Sain didn't seem to notice, but continued, "But how did you know that, Mark?"
"Lyn had mentioned it to me while on the road to Bulgar." Mark said. "After all, we ourselves had been intending to begin a journey of our own."
"Hey! But you said you didn't know where we were going!"
"I didn't, she never told me where it was, so I couldn't really know, though I suspected as much."
"Hmmm…" Kent seemed thoughtful. "We ourselves of Caelin are no strangers of worship, though the teachings of Elimine have the most followers in Elibe. Still, it is nice to see that, here at least, the ancient customs are still observed."
At Kent's words, Lyn's expression softened, and she swallowed the rebuke building on her lips. "You two can go stock up, we won't be long. We'll meet you back here when we're done."
As Lyn explained the ways of trade of the settlement, Mark glanced around once more, noticing a shift in the atmosphere of the town. His eyes followed several people who had begun to gather in the general direction of the altar. Something's not right…
"Wait, Lyn," he said. "Something's happening." He motioned to the crowd that had begun to gather.
Lyn turned and saw the group for the first time. "Odd…" she said in puzzlement.
"Is it the hour of prayer?" Kent asked, yet unfamiliar with the customs of the region.
"No… there is no set hour for the temple. It is available to anyone at any reasonable time." Lyn said.
"Perhaps it's just a large group about to set out on a journey?" Sain suggested.
"No, there's an excitement in the air," Mark pointed out, "and notice how they approach the altar. They're acting very guarded."
"It's to be expected," Kent put in. "This is a sacred place. One should rightly approach it with reverence."
"Reverence, yes… I agree. But I fear it is not reverence that slows their steps; they approach with caution. Something is causing a stir."
"Then let's find out what it is," Lyn said, and started off towards the gathering crowd. The men followed behind her without further comment. As they approached, they could more definitely pick out the excitement of the voices that permeated the vicinity. They had already begun to wade through the crowd before their presence was finally noticed.
"I beg your pardon, milady." A humbly dressed middle aged woman addressed Lyn as she moved to the forefront of the crowd, "Are you headed east? To the altar?"
"Yes, we are indeed." Lyn answered politely. "I have come to offer my prayers at the altar for the well being of my companions and I on our journey."
An expression of panic was etched clearly on the woman's face. "Forgive us, milady, but it appears the altar has come under great peril, it could be dangerous for you. We ourselves don't know what to do!"
"Then I am here to help, if you'll but tell me how I can." Lyn responded evenly.
Lyn had the utmost attention of everyone who had gathered at this comment. "Then… you must hurry and help the priest there! I saw a band of local ruffians head in there not long ago. They seemed intent on stealing the altar's sacred sword!"
Lyn was instantly in a panic, her expression turning to one of utter shock. "The Mani Katti… They're going to steal it? No! I cannot allow this to happen!"
"Lyn," Kent finally said, not wanting to be left in the dark any more, "what's going on?"
"They're trying to steal the sword at the altar! I have to stop them!"
Kent was utterly bewildered. "Is there no one here to defend such an obviously important object?"
"Our pardon, sir knight," the woman said apologetically. "We are not fighters. We are but the caretakers of this altar… the clans never thought that someone would openly attack such a sacred place."
"Well, obviously someone thought to." Kent replied with a huff, not liking the idea of Lyn running off to face danger yet again.
"You look like a virtuous group," the woman implored them. "Please, help him!"
"I'm going," Lyn said simply. Mark grabbed her before she could run off. She tried to jerk her arm free, but Mark held on tightly.
"Let go of me, Mark! I'm not going to sit here and let them do this!"
"I understand that, Lyn, but you're also not rushing in there without a plan… nor are you going alone."
"He's right Lyndis," Sain said, coming beside him, "what are you planning?"
"I have to agree as well, milady." Kent put in as well. "If you hope to go to the priest's aid, you'll need to prepare, and we'll need information."
Lyn seemed to think it over for a moment before agreeing with a sigh. "You're right, of course." She paused, contemplating their next move. "Say Mark… should we question the residents?"
Mark nodded, "That would probably be the best course of action. I'm unfamiliar with the structure, and any building held by an enemy is an advantage for them." He addressed the woman who had appealed for their aid. "What can you tell me of this place?"
"I… uh, well there's not much to say," the woman herself was obviously distressed. "There's a single entrance at the front, but other than that it's a fairly simple structure."
"Hmm…" Mark mulled it over, but it wasn't much to go by. A frontal attack seemed to be the only course of action, but it involved the most risk as well. "Lyn, you've been here before. What can you tell me?"
Lyn, herself growing anxious, couldn't think of anything to say. "I don't know! I've never really bothered to study the structure itself!"
"Great, we don't know exactly how many we're up against here, though apparently it's a local band so it can't be much… at the same time though I don't know the layout of the building or its courtyard, the wall that surrounds it won't give me an adequate view of the area." He turned to Kent and Sain, "We'll have to go through the front, but I need a…"
"May!" another woman came running towards the first, apparently just as frantic as everyone else. "May, bandit's have entered the temple!"
"Eliza!" the first woman exclaimed in recognition, "Are you ok?"
The second woman, Eliza, reached the first, out of breath from her flight. "I'm… I'm ok. I'm not sure they even realized I was cleaning inside. They're after the sword!"
"The priest…?" May asked.
"He's still inside! He was in the back, tending to the sword, I don't know if he even realizes they've gotten inside!"
As Mark took note of this new woman, something she had said caught his ears. Ah, a lucky break, he realized. No one knows a building like the person who tends to it. "Ma'am," he said to her, "Did I hear correctly that you said you are the caretaker of that building?"
The woman seemed surprised at the question at such a time, but she answered. "Yes, I have done my part to keep the temple clean." Then glancing over at Lyn, she started in surprise. "Say, aren't you the—"
"Never mind that, now," Mark interrupted. "If we're going to help the Priest inside I'll need to know everything I can about this place… is there anything you can tell me?"
Eliza again seemed surprised. "Oh! You're going to help the priest! Well…" she paused, trying to sort her thoughts into coherence, "…perhaps you could benefit from something I saw earlier…"
"What is it?" Mark urged her on as she paused. "Anything you could tell us will help."
"The bandits may have the main entrance guarded, however, one of the altar's walls is cracked and in poor repair. You might be able to create another entrance by hitting that section with your weapons."
Mark turned to the first woman, May. "This could help us greatly, but would it be seen as defilement of a sacred structure? How will the people react?"
"It won't matter as long as you save the priest and the blade!"
"Good," he turned to the knights. "Are you coming?"
"As if you have to ask," Sain snorted. Kent merely nodded.
"Just checking. C'mon, let's go see what we're up against." Turning once more to Eliza, Mark asked her, "Where is this section you mentioned?"
"It's on the west side, but do be careful! I saw at least six men!"
"We'll be fine, as long as we don't have to deal with them all at once." He motioned to the other three, "C'mon, let's go."
"Don't worry," Lyn reassured the group before them before heading off. "I won't let them get away with the Mani Katti!"
"We're counting on you!" May said. "Please protect the altar!"
"I will!" Lyn called back, following after the others as they headed for the second time in as many days into battle.
An elderly gentleman was at the altar when they entered the room, gently dusting the stand upon which the blade stood. He turned upon their violent entrance, obviously shocked at such a display.
"Wh… what do you think you're doing in here! This is not the place for you! This is the sacred resting place of the divine sword!"
Glass grinned at the naïveté of the priest. "Old man!" he said, brandishing his own sword, "Stay where you are and hold your tongue! I've come for that blade, and it will be mine!"
"Come for the… what!? No! You cannot have this blade! It is the sword blessed by the spirits… it is not meant for one man, but to be revered by all!"
Glass snorted, "How can so many believe that such a weapon is anything more than that; a weapon. If you do not wish to die today, you'll not get in my way!"
The priest stood defiantly between the gang leader and the sacred blade. "Threaten me as you will, but I'll not give up the Mani Katti! The Mani Katti is a sacred blade, under divine protection," he repeated. "It cannot be removed from its place of rest!"
Glass' laugh was a sinister one. "You're a fool, old man. What good's a sword if you don't use it?"
The priest was shocked… the thought that anyone would actually intend to use the blade had never before crossed his mind. "Use it?" he cried in astonishment, "In combat? Sacrilege!"
"Sacrilege?" he asked with a wide grin as he approached the altar itself. "I am Glass! The gods fear my name! My swordplay is peerless!" He pointed his own blade at the man before him, "And you'll find out just how efficient I am if you don't remove yourself from this place! No one can match me, and if I want this sword, then this sword I shall have!"
Having made his way through the room, he reached forward towards the priest, who stubbornly set himself between his attacker and his charge. "Now, get out of my way!" Glass said, grabbing a handful of the man's cloak and tossing him to the side. The priest crumpled to the floor with a huff, his strength long since having left him with his youth.
His way now unobstructed, Glass reached forth to grasp the hilt of the sacred blade. His eyes lit up in delight as he gazed upon it in wonderment. He'd been waiting for this moment for a long time. "This is it!" he exclaimed. "It's… it's more magnificent than I'd imagined!" He held the sword before him, realizing its quality even as the blade itself remained firmly in its sheath.
Still holding the blade aloft he turned to the priest on the floor. "This sword was made for a swordsman of my skill," he proclaimed as he made to draw the sword from its scabbard, "How dare you tell me that it cannot be mine to use!" However, upon his initial attempt, he realized that the blade refused to show itself to him, stubbornly remaining in its sheath.
"Hmm?" he grunted in puzzlement as he gazed at the sword. He pulled at it again with a little more force, but the results were the same; the sword refused to budge.
"What's this?" he asked in surprise. "What manner of witchcraft is this!? He tugged at the blade with all his might, but to no avail. "I can't… draw the sword… from its scabbard?" he said, straining at the sheath that held fast to the blade in his hands.
The old man struggled to his hands and knees, looking up at the bandit who threatened the spiritual center of the plains. His voice was raspy from the fall, but he proudly declared what he had known from the beginning. "The spirits of the blade have judged you," he said, pausing as a sudden coughing fit seized him. He regained his breath and continued, "You have been found wanting. They have rejected you."
Glass' temper had already risen dangerously high with frustration, and the priests words only served to send him over the boiling point. "What?" he growled at the figure on the floor. "Listen, you senile old fool, if you value your own life, you'll get out of my sight!!" He swung at the old man, who had finally managed to climb back to his feet. Attacking in his rage Glass missed the priest, who had finally found his legs and quickly made for the nearest exit before a second assault could be made. Glass was too frustrated to chase him, returning his attention to the blade in his hands. In fury he thrashed wildly, knocking over a nearby candelabrum.
"Curses! Miserable spirits!" he cried, destroying a precious vase that sat nearby. "I care nothing for you!" By this point he was screaming into the air, not caring who was listening. "I'll tear this altar down stone by stone!"
"You will stop right there!" Glass looked on in surprise to see Lyn and Mark enter the room. Lyn's sword was in her hands, and her eyes blazed fiercely. Mark stood off to one side, ascertaining the situation.
"Who are you?" he demanded angrily. "How did you…?"
"You have entered this shrine with the intent to deface an object revered by thousands! What makes you think you can get away with this! What makes you think you have all the right?!" Lyn shot back before he could finish his question. "You will put that sword back on the altar and leave this place or face the judgment of the spirits at my hands!"
Glass gave a scornful laugh, "And who do you think you are? What chance do you think you have against me?"
"More than your companions had against us." Mark returned smugly.
"Fine!" Glass said, dropping the Mani Katti to the ground and drawing his own sword. "If the spirits have sent you then I will prove my skills to them; they will be forced to give me the blade!"
With a cry the fighters clashed. Lyn coming in low and fast with her trademark speed. Glass was toting a much heavier weapon, but there was no doubt he was comfortable with it. His technique was such that he was able to keep Lyn at bay, despite her quickness, and he used the sheer weight of his blade to knock aside Lyn's own defensive blocks.
Mark pulled a circle around the opponents, knowing that he could not be of much use in close combat. Still he could see the difference of ability between them, and realized that if he didn't do something, Lyn would eventually be overpowered. He glanced around, looking for anything that he might be able to use, but as he approached a position behind Glass the man disengaged from Lyn, swinging around her to place her between him and Mark once more.
"You think to catch me off guard with such a simple trick? You underestimate me!"
Mark shrugged. "You never know until you try," he said, bending over to pick something off the ground. "You did, however, give me the chance to retrieve the sword." Holding aloft the Mani Katti, he turned to Lyn. "We have what we need, let's go."
Glass scoffed. "Ha! You think I'm going to just let you go? You'll have to get past me now, if you want to leave this room."
Mark sighed again, "Yeah, I suppose that was too much to hope for, luckily for us the spirits don't seem interested in fighting fair with someone who so obviously disrespects them."
Glass had only a moment to puzzle Mark's words before the end of a lance neatly sank itself into his upper thigh. Mark had to admit he was impressed when Glass, instead of reeling in pain, turned on his new opponent with a fierce backhanded swing of his blade, but Kent had attacked at maximum range, and the sword passed harmlessly through thin air, not able to match the length of the lance. Kent pulled the lance loose and Glass moved to turn on him so he could bring his full ability to bear. The injury, however, was too much and he sank to one knee in pain, not able to support his full weight on one bad leg. Instantly Kent and Sain were upon him, wresting the sword from his grasp and pinning him to the floor.
"For future reference," Mark said, approaching only after the two knights had sufficiently rendered their opponent harmless, "It's never a good idea to place one's back to an unsecured doorway."
"You… you…" Glass glared at him, too enraged to speak. He struggled to escape the grip of the knights before Sain finally brought his gauntleted hand to bear, slamming it into the man's unprotected face. Glass grunted at the force of the impact before falling to the ground with a soft groan. Kent and Sain climbed to their feet, Sain flexing the hand that had placed the blow.
"Heh… I've always wanted to do that," he said with a grin.
"Did you have any trouble with the others?" Mark asked.
"Nah," Sain reassured him. "They weren't expecting anyone to come out of the temple. They didn't have much time to react after we surprised them."
"What should we do with him?" Kent said, pointing to the figure on the floor.
"The people will decide his fate," Lyn said, gravely, "though he will get little mercy from them." As the four of them mulled over the figure on the floor Sain suddenly bent over the prone form, lifting something off his belt.
"Well, I figure where he's going he won't have much need for this," he said, displaying a vulnerary that he had taken.
"Sain!" Kent reprimanded the younger knight. "Victors or not, we don't plunder!"
"Hey! This wasn't part of our mission so there was no obligation to get ourselves involved. We can consider it our fee," Sain shot back.
"Yes, please take it," everyone turned to see the priest of the altar enter the room. "There is little we can offer you, but we do have vulneraries in abundance. We will have little need of that one." Sain glanced over at Kent as if to say 'I told you so'. Kent rolled his eyes… something that was rapidly becoming an all too familiar gesture for him.
The priest glanced over the small group, his eyes passing over Lyn with a sense of familiarity. Before anyone else could say anything, he stepped towards her. "Ah, your clothing… Are you of the Lorca tribe?"
Lyn bowed her head in respect for the keeper of the sacred blade. "I'm Lyn, the chieftain's daughter," she replied, then added in a sudden burst of concern, "Are you hurt, sir?"
The priest brushed himself off. "Thanks to you, I am unscathed. You have my gratitude."
"Oh thank the spirits," Lyn sighed in relief.
"What of the blade?" the old man asked. "Was it recovered??
"Yes sir, I have it here," said Mark, extending the blade hilt first towards the priest immediately. "I apologize for having taken it so boldly, under the circumstances, I felt it best–"
The priest gently took the blade from his hands. "Young man, under normal circumstances, it is a rare occasion indeed when one is allowed to touch the sacred blade, but the spirits are not unjust. As you are obviously a stranger to this land, and your intentions were pure indeed, the spirits hold no ill will towards you for taking up the blade."
Mark gave a reverent bow, realizing that he had just been granted a great honor that many of this land would probably never receive.
"And the sword? Is it safe?" Lyn asked, worried that some ill had come to the blade before their arrival.
"Yes," the priest reassured her. "I have sealed the sword safely away. Until I remove my spell, or until the spirits judge one worthy, it cannot be drawn." The priest closed his eyes, as if deep in thought. When he opened them, they shone with an inner light, and he held the blade aloft towards Lyn. "The spirits are indeed grateful. Now, as a token of my gratitude and theirs, I shall allow you to lay hands upon the Mani Katti. Touch the blade's pattern, and pray for a safe journey."
Mark stepped back off the altar, motioning for Kent and Sain to do likewise as Lyn gasped in surprise. "Oh! Th… thank you!" she continued breathlessly. "Thank you so much! I… I don't know what to say." The priest smiled, still holding the blade out to her. "Say nothing, my dear. Take up the blade, and offer your prayers upon the altar."
Gingerly Lyn reached forth one hand and laid a finger upon the scabbard. The blade felt warm and inviting, giving her the confidence to grasp the blade firmly in one hand, and then both. She closed her eyes and bowed her head, silently giving thanks in her heart for this great honor, and pleading for the safety of her and her companions on the journey ahead.
With her eyes closed she could not see, but the four men watching saw clearly the flash of light that emanated from the blade as she prayed. The priest was so startled that he took a step back and gasped in surprise. It was only for an instant, but as Mark looked again at the sword, he realized that it had begun to radiate with a soft glow, and he also noted that it was steadily glowing brighter.
As Lyn finished her prayer, she opened her eyes once more to stare at the four slack jawed men standing around her. "What?" she asked, puzzled. "What did–" Her question was cut short as another flash of light surprised her, and she looked at the sword more closely, finally noticing what they all had already seemed to. Her eyes went wide as the breath was once again stolen from her lips.
"The sword… It's… glowing."
The priest's mouth worked furiously, trying to regain control before his brain had fully caught up. "Ah. Hm…" he managed before finally organizing his thoughts. "It's the power of the spirits." His eyes locked upon hers, and Lyn suddenly found herself unable to turn away. She felt bare before that gaze, as if he was looking straight through her, but the glint of his eyes that she had seen earlier was now much more apparent, and she knew he was seeing more than what was on the surface.
For an time, nobody moved. The knights not understanding what was taking place, and Mark, no stranger to the ways of the supernatural, felt he understood enough to wisely remain silent. As the priest continued to stare into her eyes, Lyn was beginning to feel uncomfortable under the intense look. Finally his eyes slowly closed, and his whole body sagged, as if he had just been through a very draining experience. He suddenly looked much older before them, but his voice was clear as he spoke.
"Lyn… the spirits…" he said shakily, attempting to regain his strength. "They have looked into your soul, and they call out to you."
Lyn stared at him, still wide eyed, still out of breath. "Wh… what does that mean?" she asked, almost pleadingly.
"You…" he old man rasped, then taking a deep breath, he stood tall once more. "You are its rightful owner. You are to wield the Mani Katti."
Mark didn't think Lyn's eyes couldn't get any wider… he was instantly proven wrong.
"No… I can't… I couldn't…"
The priest laid an old gnarled hand over hers and looked at her again, this time more softly. "It is the sword's wish." She stood there, words failing her terribly. He pulled back an motioned once more. "If you require proof, draw it from its sheath."
Lyn could barely move… she could barely breathe. "Um…" she stammered, still unable to find the words to merit the situation. Before she could stop herself, she found her body moving, almost of it's own accord, slowly pulling the hilt of the blade away from the sheath wherein it lay. With a clear, ringing tone, the sword pulled free from its long time prison, glowing all the more brightly now that the metal was clear of its encasement.
Lyn stared at the blade, dumbfounded. After a long pause, wherein she struggled to comprehend the meaning of such a simple gesture, she finally spoke.
"It came out… effortlessly."
The priest's smile seemed to take in his entire face. "I never dared hope that I might meet the wielder of the Mani Katti in my life." It was his turn to bow reverently before her. "I am indeed fortunate to see the sword reach your hands."
"My sword?" was all Lyn could manage, and while the words sounded strange to her lips, when regarding such a unique blade as the one before her even she had to admit that they sounded right, that it was indeed meant to be.
The priest let her sort her thoughts for a moment longer, and the men behind her wisely continued to remain silent. Finally, after several minutes, the old man stepped forward, understanding that the spirits had more in store for this young woman than to spend her time standing here in awe.
"Lyn," he started, more to snap her out of her state of wonderment than anything else. "It is time for you to go."
She looked up at him, suddenly very worried. "But what of the people sir? What would they say if the blade they revere is no longer upon the altar they are familiar with."
"The people understand the legend of the Mani Katti," he reassured her. "They know that it would one day leave its resting place. They will not hinder you, nor hold any ill will."
Lyn closed her eyes, tears suddenly welling up inside her. "Thank you," she said, more to the spirits than to anyone in the room.
"Now," the priest continued, repeating his earlier statement with a little more sternness. "It is time for you to go, Lyn. You face a great many ordeals. Grip this sword, and meet your destiny head-on."
Lyn snapped to attention at his tone, still holding tightly to the sacred blade in her hands, finally coming to terms with the blessing she had received, and understanding that the priest was himself expressing the will of the spirits. "Yes… Yes sir!"
Everyone around her was smiling brightly.
As they left the temple, Mark noticed Sain eying the blade with appraisal. Finally, he couldn't keep himself quiet.
"So, this is the Mani Katti…" he said. "A blade with no equal, truly."
Lyn stared out at the horizon, not really focusing on anything in particular, still somewhat staggered by what had just happened. "This is all so unbelievable. Perhaps the most famous sword in all of Sacae… in my hand."
"It is not so strange," Kent put in. "In fact, many legends tell similar tales… Special blades all over the land call out to their proper owners. And yet," he smiled up at her, "when I saw you draw that blade, Lyndis… I felt something extraordinary."
Lyn looked up at him, and couldn't help but wonder if he was indeed telling the truth, but his next words eased her fears, and she knew he was being genuine.
"That sword was waiting for you," Kent said, bluntly. "You were meant to draw it."
Lyn blushed and looked away, unable to take it any longer. "Stop it!" she demanded. I.. I'm nothing special!"
Mark had to laugh. "Lyn," he stated matter-of-factly, "after what I just saw, I don't believe that for a second."
"Think of it this way:" Sain spoke up. "Some weapons feel more comfortable in your hand, right?" Lyn thought it over a moment, then nodded.
"Well," Sain continued, "the Mani Katti itself feels very comfortable with you. Does that make it any easier for you to accept?" She looked up at him, and he shrugged. "I mean, it doesn't appear that either of us can use it, and Mark's not exactly a swordsman…"
Lyn thought the comment over for a moment, running her hand over the hilt once more. "It… does feel right in my hand," she admitted, then shook her head, as if trying to clear it. "Still… a blade that only I can wield. I…" she paused once more, pulling the blade loose from the sheath that now hung at her waist. Mulling it over as she looked at the blade, she finally realized that there was no fighting it any longer. The men were right, and the sword knew it. "I suppose that seems reasonable enough. I can understand that." Slowly re-sheathing the blade Lyn closed her eyes once more. When she opened them, they were much more clear than they had been since the whole escapade had started, and Mark breathed easier, knowing that she was finally beginning to accept this gift from the spirits.
"We'd better get moving. We'll pick up any supplies we'll need here, then begin our journey to Caelin. Any longer we delay now would give Lundgren more time to prepare for our arrival, and I don't think it will be a rewarding ceremony."
The knights nodded an assent, and an hour later the small group was once again on the road.
"What? Madelyn's daughter is still alive?"
The poor soldier who had been picked to bear the news took a fearful step back, easily recognizing the look on his superior's face. "Uh… Yes, Lord Lundgren," he stammered apprehensively. "The girl is traveling with Kent and Sain."
The look on Lundgren's face soured considerably, further surprising the young knight. After a moment of tense silence the man took a deep breath and stepped forward once again, knowing that inaction would only further his lord's foul mood.
"What are your orders, sir? If we let them be…"
"Bah!" Lundgren waved him off. He wasn't happy with the news, but the group was yet a long way off. Not something for him to worry about. Besides, there were other ways to deal with distant problems. A thought suddenly struck him and he gave a smug grin. "I've heard that northern Bern is full of bandits. She's just a girl. She'll not survive her journey here."
The young knight, taking the hint, nodded stiffly. "I will see it done, sir."
"Good. Meanwhile, I'm more concerned with my older brother. His life must be ended quickly." Lundgren turned his full gaze to the young soldier with a glare, and the man swallowed visibly. "The poison… There must be no blunders," he said darkly.
"Yes, m'lord," he nodded again in reassurance. "He suspects nothing and continues to drink it. The marquess's death, due not doubt to 'sudden illness,' is not far off."
The idea brought a hint of a sinister smile to Lundgren's lips. "Heh heh heh," he cackled. "Soon… Soon Caelin will be mine!"
Mark bolted upright, braking out in a cold sweat, the image frozen in his mind sending shivers down his spine. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself, realizing that it had only been a dream, but he knew it had been real as well.
That hasn't happened in a while, he sighed to himself. I had hoped it never would again. That was the curse of his family. Now that he had a mission, a mission that was not his own, the dreams would return. They would prove useful, no doubt, but they always scared him. It was almost easier not knowing what he was waking into, but he understood that any information he could gather, no matter the source, would help them all in the long run. Lyn's enemies were aware of their situation, he would have to adjust for that.
He wiped the sweat from his brow and glanced around. Kent and Sain were both sound asleep nearby, which meant that it was Lyn's turn for the watch. He smiled, remembering the argument they had had, Kent desperately trying to convince Lyn that he and Sain could handle the watch themselves, and Lyn stubbornly demanding that she be allowed her share of the duty. In the end the knights had relented, albeit reluctantly, understanding that she would not receive any special treatment willingly.
Caelin is in for a wild surprise. He thought to himself. With another glance he discovered Lyn's whereabouts; the soft glow from behind a large boulder nearby easily giving her away. He found her seated behind it, the sword upon her lap as she gazed at it intensely. The blade still shined with a soft white light. If we didn't have to cook we wouldn't even need a fire with that thing around, he thought to himself.
"You still can't believe it, can you?" She gasped and clutched at her heart at his words, then, realizing it was him, relaxed once more.
"Will you stop doing that?" she said angrily.
Mark laughed, "I wasn't even trying that time. You were so fixed on that blade the entire Caelin military could have marched over us before you would have noticed."
She ignored him, turning away abruptly to gaze again upon the sacred blade. "Look at it, Mark," she invited him. "It's more beautiful than I ever imagined. I never got the chance to study it so closely, and now that I have I know that this is the greatest blade in this land." He squatted down next to her as she spoke, and as he studied the blade he could find no fact to dispute her claim.
"This is the Mani Katti," she continued breathlessly. "This is… my sword." The words almost caught in her throat, as if she still couldn't bring herself to say them with all confidence.
"I don't doubt the sword's choice for a minute," he gave her a pat on the back and promptly stood up again. "Of course, once the world realizes that you are the keeper of this blade, we're going to stand out like a blue flame in a bonfire."
She turned on him then, her expression somewhere between a scowl and a pout. "Can you take anything seriously?"
He gave her a supercilious look. "You know more than anyone here that I take a great deal seriously." His expression softened and he shrugged. "I just don't see any point in moping about it, I'd much rather face my issues with a smile, it's more comfortable."
That thought brought a smile to her face as well, and she conceded the point.
"I have no doubt in my mind, however," Mark continued, "that this blade will play an important role in our journey. Remember that it chose you. This is no mere tool you hold in your hand, this is a friend that you must come to trust. Be sure to treat it as such, and you will not regret it."
She nodded again, once more fixated on the blade before her. "You are right, of course. Even now I feel almost as if I could talk to it and it would reply. I must care for it well."
"Right," he agreed. "But for now, you should get some rest. Your turn of the watch is over, so I'll take it from here. There's only a few hours until daylight anyway."
"But…" Lyn hesitated, "I thought Kent had intended to take watch after me."
Mark scoffed. "That tightwad could always use some more sleep. He'll be fine." He then extended her hand towards her, inviting her to take it.
Lyn sighed and reluctantly sheathed the sword before accepting Mark's offered hand. "You speak to harshly of him," she said as he pulled her to her feet. "He's a good man, if a little traditional."
Mark shrugged again. "I just get the feeling that he doesn't like me too much."
"You're an unknown factor," Lyn reasoned. "I'm sure he had everything planned out from the beginning, but he wasn't expecting to find you at all. He doesn't know what to do with you."
"You may be right. I just hope he gets over it. I have a feeling that they're going to need us as much as we're going to need them in the near future."
"He will, and we'll all be better for it, I'm sure."
Mark smiled again. "No doubt. Anyway, you get back to sleep Lyn, and don't worry. I'll make sure nothing happens to anyone."
Lyn nodded and started off towards the encampment. Before crawling back into her bedroll she turned around once more, only to find that without the sword's light, Mark had entirely disappeared. Softly she called out to him, "Good night, Mark."
Mark's reply echoed off the surrounding rocks, and gave her no clue as to the tactician's whereabouts. "Good night, Lyn."
She slept soundly, knowing that they were in the best of hands.