Sword of Light (The Knights of the Golden Dragons - Book One) (16 page)

           
The creatures of the Abyss were ruled by chaos and
madness, that much Gregor was sure of, and in that lay their greatest weakness.
Demons were so driven to cause destruction and havoc that they felt no remorse.
There was no honor, nor even a hint of organization, in the actions of such
creatures. They gave their power over readily enough to those who foolishly
summoned them to this world, all the time seeking to break free of the bonds of
their masters. Gregor could not fathom the minds of those sorcerers who would
risk their lives, and worse still, their souls, to bargain with the infernal
creatures.

           
Tur’morival had to be the one responsible for the demons
that had infested the home of the Knights of Bella Grey, of that Gregor was
certain. No other being could have harnessed such power and so willfully sought
the destruction of the knights Gregor had served. Why? It did not make any
sense. The Knights were committed to peace. There had been no open effort by
Lord Clamine to rebuild the Knights of the Golden Dragon, and those warriors
who chose to train with him and the small group of standing regulars with him
were dispersed to the four winds once they were considered capable. They kept
the roads safe within their homelands, using the knowledge they had gained and
the aid of the local priests to combat infrequent incursions by Abysmal evils.
The Knights of Bella Grey did not even maintain an altar to the God of Light
within their stronghold. The sanctuary there was open to the practice and
worship of all faiths of the training Knights. The answer to his questions was
right in front of him; Gregor was sure if he had more time he could find it.
Unfortunately, his time within the great shelves of books was over.

           
Father Oregeth personally came to escort Gregor from the
tomes collected for demonic research. "Gregor, you have devoted yourself
to these books long enough, and it is time for you to make the last step into
the light of our God." Gregor could not help but sense there was sadness
in the Father's tone despite his gentle smile. "You will take your Vigil
with the God of Light tonight in the Great Temple. I have no doubt our Master
will favor you and elevate you to knighthood. Master Firebeard has fashioned a
wondrous suit of plate mail for you for your communion that will serve you well
in your travels as a symbol of your rank. The brothers and sisters of the
Temple, and throughout the lands in service to our God, look forward to His
divine grace accepting you into the place that is your destiny."

           
Gregor accepted the words though his mind was clouded
with his own thoughts. "I accept the call and welcome it. Only by moving
forward in faith can I accomplish the deeds that the God of Light has had the
wisdom to set before me. Will I be alone in the Vigil, Father Oregeth?"

           
Father Oregeth smiled at the earnest question as if he
had anticipated it. "No, my son, you will not be alone in the Vigil and
you will truly never be alone again though no footsteps will mark the passage
of the company you keep. Three have been chosen to witness your induction into
knighthood. I believe you will be pleased with my selections. Come to the main
Temple with me where you are to make your communion. The others await our
arrival."

           
Gregor's heart leaped at the sight of the three that
waited near the altar. Joy overtook his good sense as he spread his arms wide
to embrace the three figures as one. "You are alive! God of Light be
blessed and save us all, you are alive!" Father Wallin chortled at
Gregor's display and announcement of the obvious while Sister Noria and Brother
Findal flushed deeply at the open affection. "You slept so deeply. Forgive
me for not visiting you. I've been so caught up in my own studies. It is a sin
that I was not present when you arose." Gregor dropped his hands to his
side and stepped back as he lowered his chin, clearly ashamed for forgetting
his friends. "I beg your forgiveness. I cannot believe I've been so poor a
servant to you in your time of need."

       
Father Wallin was the first to speak,
causing Gregor’s eyes to meet his own. “There is nothing to forgive, my
son.
 
You were doing what you must to
prepare. Only death would have kept me from witnessing this day, and the God of
Light has more time allotted for me yet.” Brother Findal and Sister Noria
nodded their agreement. “Nothing you could have done anyway, Gregor. The
priests in the infirmary kept us as comfortable as they could and prayers swept
our unconscious forms day and night.”

           
Brother Findal laughed now as he spoke. "We must
have put quite a scare into them. When we did awaken, they were clucking around
us like mother hens. I doubt you could have seen us anyway with the crowds of
brothers and sisters coming in constantly to see if we were really awake."

           
“I was longing for my staff to sweep them away so that we
could come to you, but Father Oregeth forbade it. He said we needed to rest so
we would be ready for the Vigil." Sister Noria did appear ill at ease
without her trusted staff.

           
Father Wallin's face became serious as he looked at the
holy warrior before him. "I would be honored to suit you personally for
the vigil if you would allow me, Gregor. Master Firebeard has outdone himself
in fashioning the armor that you are to wear, though I do not envy anyone
kneeling in it for the hours of the night to come."

           
Gregor answered without a moment's hesitation. “The honor
would be mine, Father.” He lowered himself to his knees before the companions
he had thought were lost.

           
Father Oregeth touched the bowed figure, bringing Gregor
again to his feet. “Make ready and prepare your body and soul for the Vigil
.
Father Wallin will prove an appropriate guide. He has prepared many that have
come before you. Brother Findal and Sister Noria, prepare the altar. Gregor, I
look forward to seeing the Knight you have become in the morning. There will be
a great feast to celebrate you becoming a Knight of the Golden Dragon in the
main Hall tomorrow. It has been too long since such a celebration has taken
place, but I have faith it will not be the last."

           
Father
Wallin presented the plate mail with the grace and respect befitting the master
smith that had fashioned it. The armor shone like a glimmering sun in the
candlelit quarters where it rested on a post in the center of the room.
Gregor's time as a weapons page gave him a full appreciation of the steel
plates intricately layered that would cover him from shoulder to boot. Master
Firebeard had duplicated the twisted dragons that formed the hilts of the
swords of the Knights of the Golden Dragon, the heads forming a “T” at the
breastplate under the chin guard. The shoulder guard at the right was adorned
with a black sun formed of the same material as his personal blade, and a full
moon made of highly polished silver shimmered at the left shoulder guard.
 
The center held a shining golden orb that
radiated small slivers of light, slender fingers of gold, that at the bottom of
the orb almost touched the heads of the dragons carved below them. The spine of
the armor held the broken blade that was Gregor's charge in a gilded sheath
befitting its importance. As Father Wallin dressed him in the armor, Gregor
noted it was much lighter than he would have expected. He flexed his metal
gloves easily and was able to bend the elbows and knees unimpeded. The plates
allowed for a certain amount of air to pass through them as he moved around the
room and the supple leather straps that held the plates in place allowed him to
move as fluidly as if he wore no armor at all. Gregor found the arming doublet
beneath the armor was a thin but sturdy material unlike any he had ever felt,
and said as much to Father Wallin.

           
Father
Wallin laughed at Gregor's observation before forming a delicate reply
regarding the nature of the cloth. "Few men ever feel the touch of such
fine linens without the leave of a noble born woman. The arming doublet is made
of silks of the highest quality. Air must pass freely through the cloth to cool
the skin it protects. You see, Gregor, a woman of quality simply cannot sweat.
You will find this particular silk cloth does not tear easily, which is why the
noble houses that prize the wedding dresses made of it are able to pass them
from one bride to the next. The men of nobility are not known for their
patience after a long courtship and a trying wedding. Gowns of this material
enclose the treasures of the bride, much like the complex locks that protect
the valuables of the noble families in their vaults, serving to dampen the
fires of men and teach them appreciation for the gifts women bestow.”

           
Gregor
turned crimson as the question he posed to Father Wallin rushed past his lips.
"Are Knights in the service of the God of Light allowed to wed?" He
bowed his head even as his hand moved to touch the heart that beat rapidly
beneath his breastplate.

           
Father
Wallin weighed his answer to the question carefully before replying. He was
certain there was more than idle curiosity at work. He thought to himself that
young men were incorrigible. "It is an interesting inquiry for one about
to become a Knight, Master Gregor, and unexpected to say the least. The holy
warriors are not restricted from taking a mate should they choose to do so,
though it is a rare occurrence. Men and women who serve the various Gods and Goddesses
as weapons bearers have wed one another, and even taken partners outside the
orders they serve. It is a rare companion that can devote their life to those
who stand so close to death so often. More often than not the one who would wed
the servant of the God of Light suffers long years of anguish until the object
of their affection retires, or passes into their final rest." Father
Wallin's voice took on a solemn tone that seemed out of place with his nature.
"It is not a burden one should place on those whom we might love without
much meditation."

           
Gregor
brought his eyes to meet Father Wallin's and replied simply. "Yes, Father
Wallin."

           
"Do
not trouble yourself with thoughts of what may be, Master Gregor. The time at
hand should be your focus, and there is much you need to know. My long sleep
was not a peaceful one, and I fear it is my duty to share knowledge of my dark
dreams without the benefit of wisdom. A great demon is at the heart of the evil
that has infected this land. This particular demonic power is rarely
encountered within this world without being summoned, and only the most
powerful summoners know the means to control one, though control is a strong
word in this case. You encountered one of the Tharnorsa as a weapons page. It
set you on the path that brought you to us. These terrible demons are feared
even in the Abyss for their limitless cruelty and cunning." Father Wallin
dabbed sweat from his forehead before continuing. "The Tharnorsa appeared
to me as I slept, telling me of things to come. Terrible things, Gregor, where
the very gates of the Abyss opened into the lands, and demons of every sort
poured into the world. It knew you, Gregor. I am almost certain it was the one
you encountered so long ago, and there is something else. It was not alone. A
robed figure stood near, surrounded by the fires and bloody mists that emanated
from the demon. I felt as though I should know the figure but..."

           
Gregor
knew the figure and could hold his tongue no longer. "Tur'morival is the
name that escapes you, Father Wallin. The priests believe the leader of the
Order of the Crimson Night is no more, long since dead due to the passage of
years. I know he is not. I, too, encountered him in the realm of dreams. He is a
man no more, though I cannot say what he has become."

           
Shock
silenced Father Wallin for a moment as he considered Gregor's words. "Why
would even a fallen father of the God of Light seek to doom his soul and the
lands which he sought to protect? Why would he seek to bring the Crimson Night
that was foretold to pass? What could he possibly hope to gain? Is he
mad?"

           
“Only
he knows the answer to those questions. I have every intention of finding him
to stop whatever it is he thinks he is planning. I can only hope that the demon
aiding him is the one responsible for the slaying of the Knights I served. It
will feel the full wrath of my heart and purity of my soul. I promise you this,
Father Wallin; the demon will not come to this world again, even if I have to
follow it into the Abyss to destroy it."

***

           
The
two great wolves ran through the wood taken by the will of the hunt. Prey was
near and though there was hunger in the pair, there were two individual
passions that drove the wolves; one propelled by feral instinct and the other
by a need for the freedom of the animal form. Fang and Tana had hunted together
often since their lives interlaced so long ago, but somehow this time was
different for the huntress. She had taken to the trees of the unknown forest with
Fang to disrobe and change into the form of the animal Tana called kin, as much
to escape the press of their journey as to leave the thoughts that clouded her
mind so much of late.