Authors Note: I can't tell you how sorry I am for the late update. Believe it or not, I am still here. I don't have internet access which is why this took sooo long to post...but thank you so much for all the reviews! More coming....
I don't own anything in the Eddings universe. Nothing.
Chapter 9: Interim Preceptor
The Pandion Chapterhouse was burning.
Dark, sooty smoke filled the flame illuminated sky as the sound of cacophony and distress filled the courtyard of the Demos Chapterhouse.
On the ground organized chaos reigned as the well-trained Pandions systematically slaughtered through an endless sea of oncoming mercenaries. It was a motley assembly of fighters, but the most troubling concern was that some of the soldiers were wearing the Dieran coat of arms.
Brow drawn tight and face set in a dark blend of anger and determination; the Pandion preceptor looked over the battlefield from his astride his horse. The northwest sector of the surrounding wall had caved in from the initial explosion earlier in the evening but the resulting fire prevented the encroaching force access to the Chapterhouse. The fire would have to be controlled and contained before anyone would be able to storm the grounds.
Khalad estimated that would take about two hours. For now, that was the least of his problems. The east gate was barely holding and could soon be destroyed by the battering rams that drummed in an unrelenting, rhythmic staccato that would only end when the gates were utterly decimated. Khalad estimated that to be less than half an hour away. Still the gates were not the most pressing of his concerns.
Reports earlier that morning had indicated there was an army heading for Chyrellos and would likely intercept the Pandions traveling there in the middle of the open plains. Khalad had dispatched a messenger to warn Sparhawk and Queen Ehlana but the preceptor had not received any indication that the message was given in time. When the mysterious army had materialized around the Chapterhouse earlier that evening, Khalad dispatched additional messengers; one was sent to contact Ensen in the capital city of Cimmuria. Khalad had made a difficult choice and sent his younger brother Rhamik to find Sparhawk and inform him of the new danger.
The army that suddenly appeared around the Chapterhouse had taken Khalad by complete surprise. However, the Preceptor quickly took steps to fortify his position and launch a counterattack. Unfortunately, the enemy had been prepared for just such action. As a result a full quarter of his men were quickly cut off from the other Pandions and forced to maneuver away from the Chapterhouse. Now Khalad had no way to get his men back into the Chapterhouse for a protracted siege.
"Preceptor Khalad, sir," called one of the knights as he rode up to Khalad, saluting.
Khalad gave the knight a brief nod to report.
"Sir, Sohsen and Lydal are here."
"Tell them to meet me in my office, immediately!" Khalad ordered the knight. He turned his horse around and headed toward the dormitories.
Leaving his horse with one of the novices, he quickly made his way up to his office. Lydal and Sohsen were waiting for him.
The dark-haired, grim-faced Pandion preceptor slammed his hand down on the table.
"How many of our men are still out there?" he asked the knight in front of him.
"Around ten score, sir."
"Can we get them out?" asked Khalad.
The knight shook his head as the one next to him answered.
"Sir, most of the men are entrenched in the front lines. We were able to get the mounted knights back in, but most of the ones still fighting are on foot. They're committed..."
The scout's sentence was cut off by a growling that filled the room, causing both men to recoil in alarm. Khalad forced himself to stop; an enraged Preceptor was not what his men needed right now.
"Any word from any of our messengers?" he asked through gritted teeth.
Again, the first knight shook his head. "Nothing, sir."
Khalad slowly blew his breath through his nose, struggling to keep concern for his brother in check.
"Very well," Khalad said, nodding. "Sohsen go help with the retreat. Lydal come with me!"
Leaving his office, Khalad quickly made his way to the top of the walls surrounding the Chapterhouse. The northwest sector of the wall was still burning, but the fire had been partially controlled. The oncoming mercenaries were most concentrated on that side, but the fire proved to be a two-edged sword, the searing blaze barring passage through the blasted wall.
Khalad felt his blood pounding hard in his ears as he watched the gory skirmish. A few short years ago he would have been one of the men fighting down in those fields. Now, every last knight's life was in his hands. He had a difficult decision to make. The thought of leaving the men outside to the mercy of the vast force sickened Khalad, but his common sense quickly forced him to act. He sighed, already feeling the weight of the guilt that would haunt him to his grave.
"Lydal...tell captain Odnir to close the north gate."
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Olet had frantically ripped Talen from an unusually deep sleep to let the young knight learn there was something wrong with the Aphrael.
"I have tried everything I could think of, sir Talen, she will not open her eyes!" the lavender eyed woman said frantically.
Immediately alert, Talen ran to the tent Olet and Aphrael shared, every remnant of grogginess gone. He bent and attempted to wake up the goddess. Having as little success as Olet, he then tried to summon her with the Secrets but only silence answered his call.
Opening his eyes he found himself staring into Berit's cerulean ones.
"Anything?" The blonde Pandion asked.
Talen took a breath and opened his mouth. Nothing came out. Taking another deep breath he shook his head, still unable to find his voice. Aphrael never ignored his summons. Ever. Suddenly he felt a strong hand grip his shoulder, shaking him slightly. Talen blinked his eyes, dazed. Berit was talking to him.
"...and put her on your horse. If we hurry we can make it there in a couple of hours..."
Talen nodded mutely as he gently picked up the unconscious goddess and carried her out of her tent.
"...will she awaken?" Olet asked Berit, concern in her voice.
Talen looked down at the goddess he carried in his arms. She seemed so... fragile.
"I'm sure someone in her 'family' will be able to help...Talen and I request from her directly, but the Cyrinics request from Romalic..."
Talen only caught bits and pieces of the conversation as he carefully placed the slumbering goddess on his horse and climbed up behind her.
"...break down camp and catch up with you..." Talen recognized Kyyis' voice volunteering to stay behind.
A few seconds later all he could hear were the thundering hoof beats of three horses.
The Cyrinic Chapterhouse was the largest building for miles in any direction. Its immensity was mitigated by the surrounding landscape that incorporated every type of native flora and fauna. As a result, the Chapterhouse more closely resembled a massive garden overflowing with a sea of perennials, hyssop, and lavender. The spicy-sweet scent carried further than the massive Chapterhouse could be seen, the smell belying the true nature of those who dwelt there.
The heavy perfume left Talen weak with relief as the three riders drew closer to their destination. As the structure came into view, Talen heard one of the mounts pick up speed. He could see Berit's blonde hair in the distance, riding ahead to alert the guard.
Talen himself fought the urge to ride faster, concern for the goddess in his lap forcing the young Pandion to keep his horse moving at a moderate pace.
After what seemed like hours, Talen, Aphrael, and Olet arrived at the gate. It was open, Berit having arrived a few minutes beforehand to explain the situation. Several Cyrinic Knights, gleaming in their trademark white surcoats came to assist them. Talen dismounted from his horse and waved away the knight who had stepped forward to carry Aphrael.
"You had better let sir Talen take care of her divinity, sir knight, I do believe he will allow no other." Olet said to the knight, who hastily stepped away after seeing who addressed him. The others knights turned toward the lavender eyed woman and quickly retreated, some going so far as to make warding signs. Olet simply lifted an eyebrow and smiled slightly.
"Is the Preceptor here?" Talen asked, his voice slightly edged with violence.
The first Knight looked between his comrades and the newcomers warily and nodded.
"This way, sir Talen, the Preceptor awaits you."
The knights turned and led Talen down the hall that circled around the courtyard. Olet followed silently at a distance, her face carefully blank.
The door of the Preceptor's office was open and Talen could hear several voices. Two were as familiar to Talen as his own, but one he didn't recognize. It was definitely female, and its lilt and cadence sounded oddly similar to someone he had heard before. The Cyrinic knights stopped to the right of the Preceptor's office, allowing Talen and Olet to enter, unconscious Aphrael in tow.
A dark-haired, olive skinned man stood from behind the large oaken Preceptor's desk and came around to greet the trio, concern in his equally dark eyes.
"Talen! My god, Berit just informed me! How long has she been like this?"
Talen looked up at sir Bevier, the interim Preceptor of the Cyrinic knights and sighed.
"As far as I know since this morning. She was fine last night, but this morning when Olet and I tried to wake her, she wouldn't rise. I even tried to summon her but that didn't work either."
"Why don't you lay her down here?" Berit said stepping forward and indicating a cot set up nearby.
Talen had been carrying Aphrael since he dismounted but had failed to notice how tired his arms were until that moment. He carried the unconscious goddess over to the cot and laid her gently down.
"Don't worry sir Talen; Aphrael has been rather busy of late. I'm sure she is merely overextended, she can only tend to so many matters at once."
Talen turned toward the new voice and did a double-take.
"Sephrenia?" he asked, bewildered. In front of him stood one whom he thought was Sephrenia, but Talen wondered why she was at the Cyrinic Chapterhouse. The woman tipped her head slightly at him and laughed.
"Oh no, no, no, but you do me much honor to mistake me for my mentor," she said, smiling. Realizing that the woman was not Sephrenia, Talen noted the subtle differences between the young woman standing in front of him and the former Pandion tutor.
"I am Y'phira," she continued, "Though I have been mistaken for the High Priestess on occasion."
She gave Talen a slight curtsy and seated herself beside Aphrael's still form. Closing her eyes the young woman laid her hand on the goddess's head. She then began singing what Talen guessed to be a Styric hymn. Talen frowned and looked up questioningly at Berit who gave an imperceptible shrug.
"Lady Y'phira is our new tutor in the Secrets." Bevier supplied, quiet so as not to disturb Y'phira's song, "She came to us only a few months ago, as our last tutor was becoming a bit addled by old age—and don't worry, Talen, she come highly recommended." he assured Talen, who was looking hard at the young woman.
Talen broke his gaze from the Styric tutor and looked up at Bevier. "Will she be able to help her?" he asked.
Bevier nodded confidently. "Of course. She studied under Sephrenia herself. I am confident she will be able to handle this."
"In the meantime," Berit interjected, "Talen has something imperative he needs to share with you."
Talen glanced between Berit and Bevier and sighed. "This is going to be a long day."
----------
"A task of great import? What is it?" Bevier asked as he absently examined Talen's quartz disc.
"I was told I have to steal this thing called a 'Concordia Writ' but I have no idea why, so don't ask."
Bevier, Berit and Talen were seated in Bevier's den. The place reminded Talen more of the library archives at the Palace in Cimmuria then a nice place to relax. But then again, Talen surmised, studying was what Bevier did to relax. Similar to Cimmuria's archives, various parchment rolls where stacked inside small cubicles built into the far wall. The adjacent wall housed shelves that were packed tightly end to end with thick historical tomes. Actually, just about every corner in the spacious room was stacked with books; several left open with markers in the pages.
Instead of a traditional easy chair and perhaps some other comfortable seats, two long, rectangular tables were set up. Each was covered with open scrolls and half-written journals.
Talen felt slightly ill.
"Steal it? Why in heaven's name would he…" Bevier voice intruded on Talen's thoughts.
"I don't know!" Talen interrupted before Bevier proceeded into a full-fledged lecture, or worse, a sermon. "I'm pretty sure he has a good reason, but I don't have to foggiest idea what it might be."
Frowning, Bevier slid his hand through his thick, dark hair. "Well…what is this Concordia Writ?"
Talen shrugged. "Apparently it's some holy artifact for the Styrics. I'm sure Aphrael can explain it better when she wakes up."
"Do you know anything about ciphers, Bevier?" Berit asked.
"Generally yes," Bevier answered, one of his eyebrows dipping. "They are a type of key used for decoding. "
"Apparently we need two in order to get the Writ." Talen said. "Our pale-eyed friend said you would be able to assist us."
Bevier rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Let me look into it, the notion of Styric ciphers sounds vaguely familiar for some reason."
Berit stood up. "I am going to check on the ladies." he announced.
Talen also stood. "I guess I'll come with you then, I doubt I'll be any help to Bevier. Just looking at this place is giving me a headache."
Bevier laughed. "Fine I'll let you know if I find anything useful."
With that, the two men departed climbing the stairs to where Y'phira and Olet were caring for Aphrael.
The first unconscious body they found was in the hallway leaning against a wall. Alarmed, Talen knelt down and shook the man hard. He didn't budge. Looking up at Berit wide-eye, the two men raced down the rest of the hallway. In regular intervals more unconscious Cyrinic knights lay slumped over each other, but still breathing.
Within a matter of minutes they closed the distance to the Preceptor's office where Olet and Y'phira were with Aphrael. Berit flung open the door, practically tearing it off its hinges and they both entered, swords drawn to attack.
They were greeted by a very-irritated looking Olet as Y'phira backed into a corner looking scared.
"Oh for goodness sake put those swords away at once!" Olet demanded.
Berit and Talen gave each other a pained look and sheathed their swords.
"What happened this time?" Berit asked sighing.
Olet narrowed her lavender eyes at Berit and remained silent.
"Er…Olet?" Talen asked carefully.
"Yes, sir Talen?" she answered never taking her eyes from Berit.
"Did you by chance take a head count of the men you knocked out?"
"Twenty four…and a half." She answered through clenched teeth.
"…a half?" Talen whispered to himself, concerned.
"Are you going to tell me what happened?" asked Berit again, "Or should I just ask lady Y'phira?"
Olet groaned and threw her hands up in the air. "They were vexing me. All I was trying to do was get some supplies to help Lady Y'phira with Aphrael. Those…mongrels… thought I was trying to enchant them or turn them into toads or some other nonsense like that. They set up a parameter and tried to arrest me! I was merely defending myself, how was I to know more would come running when I…"
"I see." Berit interrupted sitting down heavily in a chair "My love, how long will they be out?"
Olet looked down at her fingers and tapped them together anxiously.
"Olet…" Berit asked again.
"I'm positively sure it will be no more than a day and a half for the first set…" she answered a slight twinge of guilt in her voice.
Talen shook his head, still very concerned over the implications of the one-half. "Don't worry Berit," he said, " I'm sure Bevier will be studying for a long while yet—gives you plenty of time to think up a reason why a bunch of his knights are unconscious. ..again."