Author's note: Yes I'm slow as molasses. Sorry it took so long to update, forgive me...I have reasons...they're not very good.
I own nothing but a little bit of lint in my pocket...please review
Chapter 10: Council
The sky was dark and overcast with mutinous sunlight vainly attempting to slice through the dense, stubborn clouds that continually marred the sky of Cimmuria. Rising to grand peaks were the equally grey towers of the palace. Despite this, the bright flowers of spring and clinging, climbing vines of ivy launched a successful rebellion against the dour colorlessness with riots of vibrant shades and hues. The bright flora had been insisted upon by the Queen; a woman whose presence was now sorely missed.
"You cannae be serious, mate," Ensen said, disbelief written plainly across his face, "The Chapterhouse? Under siege? What bloody fool lays siege to a place full of deadly killers?"
"Your guess is as good as mine, Ensen, but the messenger said some men in the force wore the Dieran coat of arms," Kalten answered.
The earl's eyes widened in shock as he took that particular news in.
The two men were seated in a small office set off from the acting Earl's formal audience chamber. Furnished with neutral beige and golden and maroon tapestries, this particular room was often used for confidential meetings between members of Queen Ehlana's privy council. A formal desk overlaid with black marble stood at the far end of the room and dozens of lit candles gave the room a warm glow.
"Do you think it's a declaration of war?" Ensen asked.
"From Diera? No I seriously doubt it, but anything's possible." Kalten answered scratching his ear.
Ensen sighed, "What can Obler be thinking?"
"Like I said, anything's possible. In the meantime we need to look to our own defenses," Kalten said.
"What about the Chapterhouse? Will we leave them at the mercy of this army?"
Kalten looked down and shook his head. "I'm no military expert, Ensen, but even I know we can't leave the capital undefended, especially if armies are suddenly materializing out of nowhere."
Ensen nodded. "Of course you're right, mate. Did you send anyone out to Darellon to find out where he stands?"
"Yes," Kalten answered, "I sent the same messenger that was sent to us, I didn't want the events garbled by mistellings."
"I think it's high time that we call for an emergency meeting of the counsel, ye ken mate? We must decide what course to take next, especially with the Queen's absence."
A tap at the door caused both men to look up.
"Enter," Kalten called out.
The large door banged open, and a large rotund man swaggered in. He was elegantly decked out in a matching forest green hose and doublet. He leaned on a polished white cane which he carried for purposes neither supportive nor aesthetic.
"Hullo there, gentlemen," Platime said, "I've got news from the underground."
"Take a seat then," Kalten said, "I'll get the kitchen to throw something together for us." He added, winking.
Platime took a seat in one of the plush chairs as Kalten rose to give an order to a nearby page.
"I'm anxious to hear of any news ye have, Baron Platime, Ye've not been in the palace since the annual council meeting." Ensen said nodding at the heavy-seat leader of Cimmuria's underworld.
Platime laughed aloud. "No, I haven't have I? But that's a story for another day isn't it? Besides, I'm sure you gentleman are far more concerned with what's happening at the Pandion Chapterhouse."
Kalten wasn't surprised at Platime's knowledge of the siege. He was, after all, the head of the Queen's intelligence. "Platime, do you know anything about why Dieran soldiers are involvement in the siege?"
Platime's face grew grim as he nodded. "Aye, I've just got some men back from that way. The reports are bad news… King Obler and his son have been assassinated."
Both Kalten and Ensen where thunderstruck and both men started asking questions at the same time.
Platime merely shook his head and raised his hands to silence them. "These are only initial reports, I expect the rest of my men to be back within the fortnight, and we will need to hold council, obviously. The direct witnesses will come to testify."
Kalten nodded; council it was, then.
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Sir Tynian sheathed his sword and looked down from the golden dome of the Basilica. Chyrellos spread before him as inch by inch of the marvelous city became exposed by the rising sun. From so high, the city looked particularly lovely as elegant spires rose toward the skies and the morning bells signaled dawn's arrival with peals of vibrant ringing.
"It's quite beautiful in the morning, isn't it?"
Tynian turned toward the familiar voice. There before him stood the legendary Vanion, former preceptor of the Pandion order of the church knights.
Tynian grinned, radiating his characteristic cheerfulness. "Well meet, Vanion!" he said gripping the auburn man's hand.
"Indeed, well meet sir Tynian! I can't say I'm surprised to see you in Chyrellos. I've heard that Darellon's running you ragged trying to get this tourney off the ground."
Tynian sighed. "That's too true, and I have been waiting forever to see Sarathi. I need his permission in order to go any further. But no one's been allowed to see him for the last several days."
"So you're left to cool you're heels, is that right?" Vanion asked smiling.
Tynian nodded. "What about you? I doubted anyone would see you again anytime soon, let alone in the holy city. It's...well..."
"Blatant heresy?" Vanion supplied, laughing. "Yes, well truth be told, Dolmant asked that we, or rather, Sephrenia come here to help him with a problem."
Tynian's eyebrows arched up. "Problem? What kind of...wait did you say Sephrenia was here, too?" He asked as his mouth curved up into a grin.
Vanion returned the grin, his youthful appearance making him look especially mischievous. "Yes and I do believe it's high time for those two to take a break."
As the men came down the flight of stairs, however, they heard a commotion coming from outside. Vanion turned around and exited the colonnade hall, Tynian right on his heels.
Like tea pouring into a stainless white cup, obsidian-clad Pandion knights were filling the courtyard of the Basilica. In perfect synchronization they formed up around Queen Ehlana and a small group of her retainers.
"I must see the Archprelate at once," Ehlana's rich, vibrant voice carried across the courtyard, "There is an army coming!"
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The door of the preceptor's office opened with ominous quiet and a bland looking Bevier stepped through with a large-leather bound tome in his left hand.
"Pray tell, why is every guard along this corridor completely unconscious? Talen?" asked Bevier in a deceptively calm voice while giving Talen a pointed look.
Talen and Berit exchanged a quick glance. "Sorry Bevier," Talen lied quickly, "I mispronounced the spell to keep our conversations out of earshot."
"Ah...as you say," Berit said, though his tone said otherwise. He shot a puzzled glance at Olet, who was still fuming. He then turned to the young Styric woman in the corner, Y'phira, who hadn't quite regained her composure.
Bevier's bland look turned into a dark frown as his gaze lingered on the Cyrinic tutor's pale face. He quickly crossed the room and put an arm around her shoulders.
"I am truly sorry for your fright, lady Y'phira," Bevier said and looked up at Talen and Berit with a dark glance. "I assure you, while my friends are somewhat misguided they will allow no harm to come to you."
Talen and Berit both nodded affirmatively, not missing the underlying order in the preceptor's words.
Y'phira gave him a small smile. "The high priestess said Elene knights could be a bit...a..."
"Barbaric?" supplied Berit, smiling a little.
Y'phira flushed a shade of pink. "Well, that wouldn't be the exact word...but...the way the knights charged at mistress Olet, I..."
Any blandness left in Bevier's face evaporated as he turned to Olet. "I beg your pardon? My men charged at you, Mistress Olet?"
Olet folded her arms and stared at Bevier with a blend of anger and defiance in her narrowed lavender eyes. "Yes, your knights charged at me. Of course it would seem a perfectly sensible thing to do...kill the witch and burn her at the stake! Of course, what is not sensible in the least is the belief that the said witch is incapable of defending herself when all her burly protectors vacate the premises."
Bevier listened to Olet's angry rant in silence. When she was done he crossed the room to stand before her. He covered his heart with his right hand and bowed low. Straightening he met her gaze which was wary.
"Mistress, as preceptor of the Cyrinic Order of the knights of the Church I extend my deepest and most heartfelt apologies for the unjust and absolutely absurd actions of my knights. I hereby take full responsibility for the offence, though I do intend to take those responsible...to task. In the meantime I beg forgiveness and ask if I might be of service to you in any way."
Olet's eyes widened and she laughed. "To task, sir Bevier? I should truly enjoy seeing that, as such I will forgive you the offence and consider witnessing the responsible party taken to task as remittance enough."
"Unfortunately, you don't have time Olet."
Talen turned toward the familiar voice with a surge of relief. The thin cot that Aphrael had been laying on was now empty. Flute, however, sat sedately on the large oaken preceptors desk, grass stained feet crossed delicately at the ankles.
Talen was torn on whether to throttle her or hug her. The latter was decided for him as the child-goddess collected a plethora of kisses from everyone present in the room. Seating herself again on the preceptor's desk, she clapped her hands twice.
"As soon as Kyyis gets up here we will hold counsel; we have many things to discuss." Flute said.
Talen shook his head. He had completely forgotten Kyyis in the scramble to the Cyrinic chapterhouse, now that he thought about it, Kyyis should have arrived hours ago. Just then the heavy door opened and Kyyis entered.
"Where have you been? You should have arrived right behind us!" Talen articulated his thought.
Kyyis raised an eyebrow. "There wasn't really anything I could do for Aphrael, so I decided to stop in town to restock our provisions. Just because a certain person only uses a tiny part of his brain to think doesn't mean the rest of us can't be practical and think ahead."
Talen ground his teeth in an effort not to punch his brother, as a challenging grin spread across Kyyis' face. Kyyis was much better in a fistfight than Talen.
"Be nice." Berit murmured.
Flute rolled her eyes with a heavy sigh that said 'Elenes'. "Seeing as how Kyyis is now here, perhaps Bevier could share what he found in his research?" she said aloud.
All eyes in the room turned toward the Cyrinic preceptor. Bevier nodded at Flute and opened the tome he was holding.
"This is from the annals of the early Archprelate Listrages I. This was in the earliest times the hierarchy of the church had been established. Listrages I was the third Archprelate appointed."
"They have annals back that far?" Berit interrupted. "That was even before the Zemoch war!"
Bevier nodded and continued. "According to his annals, a treasure of incredible value was won as tribute from a Styric tribe know as H'va-ken. These annals don't go into much detail about the treasure but it's clear it wasn't material goods and Listrages is rather secretive about it."
"Light and lore violence has carried away," Y'phira said softly "The children of H'va-ken to whom were entrusted the knowledge of the ages are come to naught in the trial of blood, death, and fire. Weep now of their passing, for the loss of part lessens us all." she finished.
Y'phira's words had changed the atmosphere of the room. Talen felt the heavy weight of sorrow deep in his bones. As the Pandion thief looked around he noticed he wasn't the only one.
"Where did you learn that, Y'phira?" asked Flute looking at the young woman intently, "That lament hasn't been sung for seven generations."
The Styric woman looked confused. "I'm not sure Aphrael, it just came to me..." she drifted off.
Aphrael's brow drew together in thought, finally she addressed the preceptor. "Bevier, did Listrages say where this treasure was located?"
Bevier looked back down at the tome. "No...at least not here." he looked up then, a pensive expression on his face. "But this is only a copy of the annuls and an incomplete one at that. The originals are in Chyrellos. I'm pretty sure we'll be able to find out a clue about the location if we can get a hold of the complete annals of Listrages I."
Flute smiled and clapped her hands again. "Pack up ladies and gentlemen, we're going to Chyrellos."
"Divinity, if I may?" interrupted Olet, "How do we know that Listrange's treasure is connected to the cipher's we are searching for?"
Flute sighed. "Like Y'phira said, the H'va-ken tribe were knowledge keepers. They knew about the ciphers. We could ask them directly but they happened to be completely annihilated by Elenian Church knights about a millennia ago, or so. All H'va-ken's knowledge and secrets were confiscated by the Elene church."
"I though Styrics pretended followed oral tradition, Flute." Talen said confused.
"Yes, Talen," Flute sighed again, "And Hva-ken is why."
"We will leave at first light then." announced Bevier.
"Actually it would be better if we leave tonight." said Flute.
"Why?" asked Kyyis.
The child-goddess looked somberly at each of them. "…Because we need to beat the army to Chyrellos."