Shadowblade (19 page)

“While you and Zerva serve the will of Zuhr, others do not,” Rohan said matter of factly. Ulrych was proud of Rohan’s mind and pleased that he had chosen this man to be his Patriarch.

“Qraz of the Arnathians, Umber of the Orcine, Grymm of the Dead, Zerva of the Wood, and Zervish of the Sea. We were the first of Zuhr’s children, followed by one hundred other powerful immortals, or Cjii, as we call ourselves. We married and had children and formed great cities and great societies. But we were made for a greater purpose and Zuhr forbade any further reproduction among us. Each of the First Six gathered our followers and shaped them into a hierarchy to do our will. Zerva and Grymm chose to release their followers asking them to serve me instead. Unfortunately, those who had pledged themselves to Zerva went their own way when she freed them. Many of them roam the world interacting with the races, some beneficent, others corrupt. Still others fled to the Shadowrealms where they thought they could escape the power of the First Six. To their own consternation, they discovered that Umber now ruled from there. Those who follow Umber call themselves the Society of the Demon.”

“That means damned in the older tongue, yes? And, the Angels follow you.”

“And Zuhr,” Ulrych nodded. “Needless to say, my brethren in the Heavens and Shadowrealms are not happy with Zuhr’s recent decision. Many have fled from the Heavens and Shadowrealms and have descended to Llars, seeking refuge. Others have chosen to form alliances and it appears as though a line is being drawn even now. A very clear line.”

Ulrych was quiet for several moments and Rohan did not interrupt him. Finally Ulrych said this; “There is nothing else I may reveal to you about the goings-on in the Heavens. It should suffice to say now that a war in the Heavens has spilled onto Llars and Umber is behind it. War comes, Rohan. We must be ready. As Zuhr’s own chief among the First Six, I have the distinct honor of leading the fight to come; you will be my right hand.”

“Great Ulrych, I know nothing of fighting or war!” he exclaimed with fear.

“Ahh. But you possess loyalty, faith, and wisdom. These are what I shall rely upon in the coming days. We will call the generals of the earth to aid us with strategy and we will be blessed with the Return!”

“The Return, Lord Ulrych?”

“The lost art of the Sigils. Zuhr has chosen a humble man to bear the burden of bringing back the power of the Sigils. He will come here, to Myrnwell. Your Order must seek him out and protect him. He will need our help. I will be here to guide you, and when the time comes I will walk among the people. I must prepare the way to Zuhr and show the people of Llars that it is to Him they owe their faith.

“I have faith in you, Rohan, to find the words and deeds to make this conversion so. Here is something I have written about our great lord, Zuhr, that my help you in your task. There will be many churches going forward, Rohan. And that is OK. Yet, have care for there will always be those who will take the darker paths in the name of Zuhr. Your church will be the model for all to follow in the trying times ahead. And when these times come, those who truly profess faith in Zuhr will find the way. You will now be known as the Arch-Bishop of the Church of Zuhr; lead by example,
Rohan
.
”

Rohan suddenly began to weep.

Ulrych did something, then, that he had not prepared himself to do. In fact, he felt like he might pay the price for such action later. Ulrych materialized himself wholly in the physical presence of his Patriarch. In this form, Ulrych knew that he could in fact be killed, yet he did not fear this. When Rohan actually felt the physical hand on his shoulder he was so amazed that he fell to his knees. Ulrych took hold of Rohan and held the man as he wept, offering him the comfort the man would need to offer his own flock. “Weep not, brother. For we are brothers in the eyes of Zuhr. Know he will not abandon you the way your parents did. You are his child and he will protect you with his might.

“In fact, Rohan, I am to become the Patron of the church you will lead and you may refer to me as such. You will form an order of knights in answer to the vile corruption of the Zuharim. They will be an obstacle and the corrupted will weep when the First Paladin Returns, not to their Order, but to yours. Many of them will flee the corruption of their order and the misguided priority of fighting a war in Al Zocar. You will seek them out, Rohan. Accept them. For the knights who venerate the Patron Ulrych will be called the Sword of Zuhr. They will protect the weak, seek out injustice, and bring peace. In times to come, a great war may yet be fought in Al Zocar, but that time is not now.” This last the Patron said very quietly to himself.

Rohan looked up from his weeping and saw

ancient wisdom in the eyes of Patron Ulrych. He felt peace descend on him in the presence of the Patron.

“I understand, My Patron. I will do as you command, as the Lord Zuhr wills. I see the wisdom now. Thank you for listening to me blather!” Rohan smiled heartily at the Patron. Ulrych smiled back.

“The comfort I have given you, Rohan, comes from the Great Father, Zuhr. All things are possible in his light. I am afraid I have taken the last of the liberties granted me by Zuhr. And now I must take my leave. Know this, Rohan, from time to time I will reveal myself to you at the Great Lord’s direction to bear his message to you. I will always be the Sword of Zuhr, and I will protect his church. I will return when the time is right and lead you against the darkness.”

As the Patron Ulrych faded from sight, Rohan laid down on the floor resting his head on the book given him by Patron Ulrych. He closed his eyes and felt warmth begin to fill him. He felt welcomed and realized that Ulrych was the older brother he never had, raising him in the stead of his absent parents, and preparing him to go into the world.

Rohan stood in the paneled room below the temple of Ulrych, pacing. He was dreading this moment from the instant he left the Tower. He hoped that the Seven would understand what he was going to tell them. He knew it was too much to expect any amount of excitement or eagerness from the Seven, but he held fast to the plan of Great Lord Zuhr.

There were eight throne-like chairs positioned around the golden table. Rohan looked at table and chairs, and the tapestries and rich artwork in the room, as if seeing it all for the first time. He felt sick at the luxuries and the indulgences the church had taken and thought of all the people who could have been helped by the money spent on this opulence. He shook his head, “One battle at a time.”

The massive door at the end of the room swung open and the Seven filed in. Seven was the collective term often used to describe those who occupied the High Seats of the Church, and the term was used even when they numbered less; today there were five. In a moment there would be none. Each one of them stopped at the seat designated for their number and looked at the Patriarch.

High Seat One, Baeric Goldswar, eyed Rohan distrustfully. Baeric stood in his scarlet and gold robes with silver trim at the sleeves and hems and fanciful silver leaves and symbols. Baeric’s love of his traditional Gyrannish symbolism distressed Rohan to no end, yet he certainly was useful and effective when dealing with the Gyrannish Tribal regions and their irascible chiefs. Rohan knew that Baeric would likely be his staunchest adversary at first. If he could just convince Baeric, the rest would not be so ardent in their debate. Alas, debate was the intended purpose of this room. Rohan sighed as the First took his seat.

The Second, Ailrocz Kazacz, was resplendent in his royal blue robes with black trim and silvery scrollwork. Ailrocz served the area along the mighty Pol River and the stalwart people who thrived there. Ailrocz was a warrior-priest and had personally organized the only militia of the Pol region to successfully fight off the Brigand Gangs. The Pol River was considered the main highway through that region of the North. It originated in the Silver Mountains, passed through The Hundred Lakes’ independent communities, and terminated in the ocean. It was the most widely used trade route to the interior regions of the North, also widely believed to be the most favored by the Brigand Gangs. Ailrocz nodded respectfully to the patriarch and sat down.

The Third, Gun Sivursen, was short and stout. Gun was a member of the Svaka Vaard clan, and was notoriously fond of food and drink. He was oddly attired for one of the legendary savage Vaard, but he was a man of contradictions it seemed. He wore brown doeskin leather trousers, with a white blouse with lace on the sleeves and collar favored by merchants of the Broken Islands, and a richly embroidered cloak of black velvet trimmed with silver and blue. Rohan smiled at Gun, as odd and intimidating as the man was, the Third was one of the most genuinely nice people he had ever met. Gun was an old Svaka merchant fisherman before he took his post within the church and Svaka fishermen were men who put high stock in a man’s word. The stocky Vaard was deceptively strong, fierce in his devotion, and a shrewd businessman. Rohan was glad to have him as the Third, because it was the Third’s job to reconcile the Church’s accounts.

Kayl Kyndya, the Fourth Seat, was a man that Rohan felt a personal joy in knowing. The young man was dressed in the stately attire of those living in Tarheym. He wore a red cloak held together at his neck with a silvery chain and pendant, a black satin tunic bedecked with chains and symbols of rank, and shiny black boots. Kayl Kyndya was a slender man of a mere thirty years, and made the position of High Seat at age twenty-five; the youngest to ever take a High Seat. Kayl was a man from the region of the North bordering the Alfheym, land of the revered and reclusive Crimson Elves. Twelve years ago, before Kayl took the cloth, Rohan had met him there while enroute to meet with an emissary from Alfheym. Kayl had been a youth who enjoyed chasing women and Rohan had spent three entire evenings trying to set the young man on a better path. Rohan had despaired that his arguments had fallen on deaf ears and he prayed for the young man. Two years later, Rohan had learned that the youngster had married five women, each in a different town, and was being hunted by as many angry fathers.

Kayl found Rohan again on a pilgrimage to the Tower of the North where he spent many days interviewing the young man and convincing him to meditate and pray, so that he could assess his worthiness. In the end, Kayl’s heart seemed to be in the right place and Rohan set about teaching Kayl how to mend the fences he had broken. Rohan, and the fathers of his harem, were all quite pleased there had been no children involved. In fact, Rohan had been able to persuade each one of the fathers to donate coin to the church for purpose of covering the costs of Kayl’s apprenticeship. Much to Rohan’s chagrin, Kayl was possessed of a photographic memory and passed all his tests with flying colors. Over these short years Kayl had progressed through the ranks more quickly than any in history and, due to a severe shortage of clergy in Fourth Region, Kayl became a High Seat more quickly than any in history.

With a knowing smile for Rohan, Kayl took his seat.

Finally, The Fifth High Seat in attendance, Leur Flameou of Amberlou, took his seat. Leur was a grim man with a pockmarked face and oily hair. He was simply attired wearing nothing more than a simple white shirt with black trousers and a gray cloak clasped with a silver fist. Leur nodded respectfully to the Patriarch with a twitch in his eye and clenched jaw as he sat down. Rohan was concerned, yet Leur was always a dour man.

The Sixth and Seventh had chosen not to attend. An affront to the Grand Patriarch, yet one that was not unexpected. These two remaining High Seats were from the Barony of Errex, and the Earldom of Sellers. Both had thrown in their lot with the newly crowned Steel Emperor, and neither had responded to any missives. Rohan prayed for the men, he knew that the Steel Emperor was a solid supporter of
Qra’z
now and dissension would not be tolerated.

Rohan sighed again, looking out across the massive table richly carved with historic scenes. “My brothers, let us begin our meeting in silent prayer.” Rohan skipped over the traditional invocation to Ulrych, knowing that such an invocation would be inappropriate from now on. He bowed his head and prayed softly for the strength to debate the men gathered before him and, thankfully, none questioned his lack of propriety. This was a table of equals. Each man silently said his own prayers, the time for debate and questioning violations of procedure would come.

Then the meeting convened.

“It pleases me to see you all here and I see that each of you has his copy of the book that I sent to you.” Rohan’s stomach was upset and he was sweating. Nothing like this had ever happened in history. “I hope each of you has had the chance to prayerfully consider the content of the book and compare them with the Histories that we already know to be true. We all see that troubles are ahead and I cannot express how urgently we need to begin our work. I will say nothing further and open the floor. We begin with the First, what say you?”