Dellain walked down the narrow hall with a brisk step. His first Lieutenant Mathius, walked beside him lost in thought. Both men were in regular clothes and dressed comfortably but felt very naked without their armor. They made haste down the stone halls of the palace of Calathen their steps echoing the whole way. They had been summoned to a meeting by the Father Abbot himself.

Dellain glanced at the rugged man to his right. Mathias was a loyal man who always stood at Delain's side. Of all the men in his Raven Guard Mathius cared for order and discipline. He was also a shrewd calculator with an eye for detail that often made him suspicious. He was a tall man with a stout frame that spoke of strength. He was a monster in a fight and one of the few men who could claim to know a dozen fighting styles.

It wasn't his fighting styles Dellain was interested in now; it was his suspicious nature. He made sure Mathius was called to the meeting as well just so the man could listen in.

This meeting would contain the leaders of the council as well as the emissary of the master. Dellain didn't like what that meant, and he wanted Mathius's opinion on it.

“I can’t believe they are meeting here,” Mathius said, breaking the silence.

“They have no choice,” Dellain replied. “Gersius has managed to vanish into the air. They need to agree on the next move now, not when he resurfaces.”

“The assassins learned nothing in Eastgate then?”

Dellain glanced at the man. He hated dealing with assassins, and even speaking of them felt dishonorable.

“The only things they learned was Gersius was there at one time, and he is in the company of a priestess named Thayle. He was long gone by the time we searched the temple.”

“They didn’t get very far with their own search,” Mathius said with a tight smile.

Dellain nodded. It was true the assassins had tried to search the temple secretly but managed to raise the alarm and found the temple crawling with armed and ready soldiers. The report said there had been a series of battles inside the temple before the remaining assassins fled.

“All those fools did is set the order of Ulustrah against us,” Dellain said. “We still have no idea where Gersius is.”

“What about the trouble in the south Commonlands?” Mathius asked. “Surely that has to be him.”

“The descriptions we have been able to get only describe three people,” Dellain replied as they turned a corner in the lower palace.

“Two of those descriptions are clearly Tavis and Ayawa,” Mathius pointed out.

“And who is the girl?” Dellain asked.

Mathius shrugged, “An ally we don't know of. It doesn't matter who she is, where the other two are Gersius is nearby.”

Dellain shook his head, Causing his dark hair to brush his shoulders. “He wouldn't have remained hidden this long. He has to be somewhere else. Those two are after something for him. Maybe the girl is what they are after.”

“Didn’t he have a sister?” Mathius asked?

Dellain nodded. “Sophia, she was at Illion when the Doan surrounded it.”

“So it can’t be her,” Mathius said. “Did he have a daughter?”

Dellain stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Mathius. “How old is Gersius?”

“I don’t know, low thirties?”

Dellain nodded his head. “A daughter?” he said more to himself than anybody else. “Who in the order would know if Gersius secretly had a daughter?”

Mathius tried to think about it but shook his head. “Gams I suppose, but nobody knows where he is either.”

Dellain smiled and let out a short laugh. “You have no idea how angry that makes the Father Abbot,” Dellain said. “When he learned Gams was on the list of Gersius's close acquaintances that had gone missing, he was furious. If I were you, I wouldn't mention it where he can hear you.”

The two men started walking again and resumed a brisk pace.

“So the reports are true that his family is gone?” Mathius asked.

Dellain nodded. “His mother and father picked up and moved east. They were probably through Eastgate before he was.”

“Then maybe he went east to meet them,” Mathius suggested.

Dellain considered that thought. “Riders have been sent to all the distant temples. In two months there won't be a temple to our order that isn't looking for him. If he went east, he will find no peace there. But if your right and this woman with Tavis and Ayawa is family to him, she might be the key to drawing him out.”

“So we should send more men to the south Commonlands,” Mathius said.

Dellain sighed. “We have no more men. We have had to twist and blackmail every petty lord and noble for house troops, or militias to form the searching parties we have. We have had to reduce the numbers of priests to one or two per group to maintain numbers.”

“We need to pull men off the front then,” Mathius said.

“If the lords of the old empire catch us moving troops away from the border keeps they will protest. The Father Abbot was clear that nothing was to move from the western defenses without his express consent.”

“But the Doan seem to be holding off,” Mathius said. “They haven’t attacked a keep since Gersius left.”

“They are reorganizing,” Dellain said. “Gersius broke the back of one of their armies. They are reforming it with fresh troops and positioning the other two armies. When they resume attacking, it will likely be from three directions. Nobody will be moved from the front.”

“So we're left with scraping up priests from local temples to lead ragtag militias in pursuit of the most dangerous man the order has ever faced?” Mathius surmised.

Dellain nodded as Mathius painted the picture. He was right, Gersius was not a man to be taken lightly. The fact that he had escaped Whiteford attested to that. Now he managed to hide where even the assassins couldn’t find him, and the only clue to his whereabouts was far into the south Commonlands. As much as he hated to admit it, he needed the assassins to run them down.

They arrived at an arched doorway deep in the palace. On each side were two men in the golden armor and red sashes of the holy guard of Astikar. They stood at attention and eyed the two men as they approached. Hands rested on sword hilts and fingers twitched as Dellain arrived with Mathius.

“We are here in reply to the summons,” Dellain said.

A man to the left of the door only nodded and reached over, pulling the door open so they could go in.

The room inside was simple but clean and well lit by dozens of candles that stood on stands all along the walls. The room was dominated by a long table of thick, sturdy oak, waxed and polished to a sheen. On its surface sat silver trays piled with foods and cups full of wine.

It wasn’t the food or the wine that were of interest to him. It was the people seated around the table.

The Father Abbot sat at the head of the table in a simple red shirt. He sat back in his chair with an expression of his face that seemed annoyed. His piercing eyes quickly darted to Dellain as if he was the source of the annoyance.

Seated to his left was a woman. Dellain had heard her name was Yarvine. She was tall and regal looking with black hair that curled just past her shoulders. She wore a Green dress with golden trims and a thin golden hair net on the top of her head. Her face looked delicate, but the expression she made give him a sense of displeasure. She looked like a woman who was used to getting what she wanted.

Past her was a man in a simple red and brown shirt. He had short brown hair that circled his face in a well-manicured beard. He had a powerful chest and frame that showed muscle and strength. He had an almost passive expression to his face as he glared across the table to another man. This man wore all dark blue and had a shaven head. His skin was a little pale, and his eyes dark and deeply set. He sat with the fingertips of his hands pressed together, and returned the mans scowl. A final man sat next to him. He was the youngest looking of them all. Thin with a clean face and long brown hair. He sat in ordinary clothes of a brown jacket over a tan shirt. He was the only one in the room, smiling as he rolled a gold coin between his fingers.

“So none of your order will help?” The bearded man barked at the bald man.

The bald man held up a palm as if to deflect the words.

“My order maintains only one armed force, and you lost that when you went to war with Ulustrah,” the bald man replied.

“What about the men of your secret order?” the bearded man asked.

The bald man shook his head. “They will help of course, but we are still only talking about twelve men.”

“Twelve!” the bearded man barked.

“That should be of no surprise,” the woman said. “We don't carelessly recruit as you do. In my order there are but thirty women.”

The bearded man sat back in his chair and looked up at the Dellain and Mathius.

“This is the man you wish to use for this fool plan?” he asked as he turned to the Father Abbot.

Dellain looked to the Father Abbot and saw the mans calculating gaze washing over him. He decided to stand aside with Mathius and watch the others as they bickered.”

“Brother Dellain understands what is at risk,” the Father Abbot began. “He is a perfect choice.”

“There is no reason why it can't be a woman from my order,” the dark-haired woman said.

“The people are expecting a priest of Astikar to complete the prophecy,” the Father Abbot pointed out.

“The prophecy only refers to a champion of the divines. It never says if this champion is a man or a woman,” she pointed out.

“It clearly refers to the dragon knight as he or him all through the pages,” the bald man said.

“It also calls this person the dragon knight, and even refers to him being in two places at once,” she pointed out.

“Man or woman, Astikar or Ulustrah, the right choice or the wrong choice,” the thin clean-shaven man said as he flipped his coin catching it with a swipe of his hand. “Maybe we let fate decide?”

The woman sneered at him. “I have no idea why your order even sits at this table.”

The man rolled his coin through his fingers again. “My order told you Gersius would find his dragon. We told you he would escape your trap. We can see the odds, he is being helped by the divines, and they are stacking the odds in his favor.”

“That my order may very well march out to help him is proof of that,” the bald man said.

The woman closed her eyes and shook her head. “Mine will as well. The primes are meeting as we speak. I have no doubt what decision they will make.”

“Then we have to move more quickly,” the Father Abbot said. “We must move forward with our plan and bring the prophecy to a close.”

“A close?” the bald man said. “You can’t complete the prophecy with a cheap display.”

The Father Abbot smiled and leaned forward. “The people know nothing of the other predictions. All they care about is who walks through the golden gates with a dragon.”

“And this dragon has already agreed?” the bearded man said.

The Father Abbot sat back and looked to his left.

“Well, has he?”

They all turned to look at an open doorway on the far wall. A man stepped into the dark opening. He was tall and had a coppery skin. His eyes were reddish amber in color and had reddish-brown hair that went down his back. His face was sharp and clean shaven but arrogant looking as he smiled at the room.

“The arrangements have been made,” the man said. “The dragon will agree to aid us directly. Provided you agree to its conditions.”

“We have already agreed to the conditions,” the bearded man said.

The newcomer nodded as he stepped out of the shadow of the doorway and into the light. He was dressed in a lavish red and black coat with golden trims and finishes. He walked with a careless grace as he approached the table.

“The master is displeased at the lack of progress with the war,” he said. “He is hoping this last bit of aid will enable you to move ahead.”

“We would have been far ahead if you had killed Gersius,” the bald man said, turning to look at the Father Abbot.

The Father Abbot glared at him with a scowl. “Gersius would have been a powerful asset! I was trying to stop him, not kill him. That’s why we ambushed his men and why we sent the dragon to the valley!”

“Which we told you would fail,” the young man said as he flipped his coin.

All eyes went to him, but he only smiled and snatched the coin from the air again.

“I tried to snare him personally,” the Father Abbot growled. “I used myself as bait to lure him to Whiteford.”

“And we told you that would fail too,” the young man said.

“And what does your foresight tell you now?” the woman demanded.

The man studied the coin in his hand and flipped it. This time when he reached out to grab it, it tumbled from his grasp and clattered to the table. He looked down on it with a frown.

“Control has been lost. He has found a path to Calathen and is already moving against you. He has undone something you have done to him. There is a barrier, a wall before him. I can not spy into his path. It's as if the Gods themselves oppose the vision.”

“So you're useless to us now,” the woman said with a pleased smile.

He picked up his coin and resumed rolling it through his fingers as he smiled back at her. “I have a few uses for you later.”

The woman locked her jaw in a scowl as her eyes narrowed on him, but he only held his smile.

“Enough of this bickering,” the Father Abbot said. “If this vision is correct, then we need to move ahead with the plan.”

“I don’t like this false prophecy,” the bearded man said. “We all know what the book says.”

“All the more reason to push ahead,” the bald man said. “The longer we wait, the more time we give the man Gersius to fulfill it.”

“If the prophecy is true, then he will come for us,” the woman said.

“He will drag them from the shadows and bring their plots to light,” the bald man quoted.

“We don’t know that means us,” the bald man said.

“Who else could it mean?” the woman asked with a wave of her hand.

The bearded man folded his muscular arms over his chest. “And what of the prediction that he will ‘break the backs of his enemies in one hour, but in turn will be broken. The blue lover will wail over his loss.’

The room was silent a moment as they considered the line.

“Clearly he dies,” the woman said.

“That happens before he drags us from the shadows,” the bearded man said.

“Maybe the predictions are not in order?” the bald man suggested.

“We have debated that a thousand times,” the woman said with a shake of her hair. “They must be in order.”

“And what of this queen of the red star?” the young man asked as he studied his coin. “We have looked into her. The predictions say her light is about to shine.”

“There are no women in the order of Astikar,” Dellain said. He had heard this prediction a dozen times now, and every time it sounded more foolish.

“And how do you know that?” the woman asked, paying him attention for the first time.

All eyes turned to Dellain, and he suddenly wished he had kept quiet.

“No woman has served in the order for over a thousand years,” he said. “This is a long-standing tradition that has seen several men punished for disobeying it. Women are forbidden into the order, and no priest of the order would dare train one now.”

“This was done to prevent the prophecy, was it not?” the bald man said.

The Father Abbot nodded. “We have instilled a belief in the order that Astikar himself desires it this way. No man who calls Astikar his god would train a woman.”

“As I said none would dare,” Dellain agreed.

The woman across the table smiled at him. “Not even Gersius?”

Dellain frowned at the suggestion but had no retort.

“He must be the key to that,” the woman said. “Where ever he has hidden himself, he must be training her.”

“He needs to be found and stopped,” the bearded man said.

“How did he escape the trap in Eastgate?” the bald man asked glaring at the woman.

“I have no authority in Eastgate!” the woman snapped. “The prime there hid him inside and kept them apart. Most of the women there only knew there was a special guest in one of the wings. They were not permitted to speak to them or even about them. My spies hadn’t even told me he was there until after he was gone.”

“This prime seems to have taken his presence there very seriously,” the bald man said.

“Of course he did. You forget we can see the auras,” the woman replied. “I am sure Prime Arlin asked him the truth, and when he saw it, he acted.”

“What truth?” the Father Abbot said with a shake of his head. “That the fool Gersius is trying to bring a second age of ruin on the land? That he is blundering through a prophecy that will see the land torn asunder and mankind living in the ashes?”

“None of that will happen,” the stranger from the doorway said as he stood to the side.

Dellain studied the man as he began to walk around the table.

“Our master has made you all a promise. He will prevent that from happening again and restore the order that was lost. He has upheld all of his promises so far.”

Dellain saw the people at the table frown at that remark. None of them liked this path they were on, but none of them could deny what was at risk.

“We will go ahead with the plan to make our own dragon knight,” the stranger said as he looked up at Dellain. “We will sway the people, unite the empire, and create an impassible wall to Gersius.”

The young man smiled widely as he flipped his coin, but when he snatched it from the air, he cried out in pain. It fell from his hand and clattered to the table, landing with the head of a dragon facing up. They could all see the red of blood on that face, blood that now dripped from where the coin had somehow cut the mans hand.

All were silent as the man looked at his hand and then down at the coin.

“The path you have chosen will bleed the land dry,” he said. “Gersius, the conqueror, will come, and the queen of dragons now stands behind him.”

“How is that possible?” the bearded man asked as he slammed a hand on the table. “Balisha is trapped!”

“Calm yourself,” the Father Abbot snapped.

“Calm myself?” the man asked. “You should have killed this Gersius when you had the chance!”

“We can't complete the master's plan without the dragon knight!” the Father Abbot roared. “Gersius was meant to join us and then go out to find his dragon!”

“But he didn't join us, and you let him go!” the bearded man accused.

“He evoked his right as knight commander! I have no authority to refuse him! I may be the highest ranking member of my order, but I have to act within the boundaries of the faith!”

“This is why we tried to kill the dragon,” the woman said as if the comment didn’t need repeating.

The bearded man sat back and huffed. “At least he doesn’t have the sword or armor.”

There was a silence in the room, and Dellain struggled not to smile as all eyes turned to the Father Abbot. He already knew the secret but was very interested in how the old man was going to tell the others.

“That may not be true,” the Father Abbot said.

“What isn’t true?” the bald man asked.

The Father Abbot rested the tips of his fingers to his head as he sighed.

“The armor, weapon, and shield vanished from the vault over ten years ago. We have never figured out how,” he said.

All the faces in the room glanced between them, and it was the bearded man who exploded into anger again.

“So he could very well have them now?” he demanded.

The Father Abbot shrugged. “As I said, we have no idea how they were removed. The vault wasn't even opened.”

“That equipment was crafted by the finest smiths of Gorrin!” the man bellowed. “The sword can channel the power divine!”

“I am well aware of what the sword can do!” the Father Abbot argued back.

“If you don't have the armor, what is your replacement going to wear?” the bearded man asked as he threw a hand out to gesture to Dellain.

“You and your brethren will have to craft him a new set,” the copper-skinned man said as he paced beside the table.

“Easy enough for you to say,” the bearded man said with a shake of his head. “It will take over a month to craft armor like that, and we will never be able to recreate the sword. Gorrin himself made that!”

“So our problems multiply,” the woman said. “I assume you are taking the precautions I instructed you on?”

The Father Abbot nodded. “All the woman of your order, including the silent ones, are being gathered up. They will be held as you instructed with the wards that block their power.”

The woman sighed. “I expect to hear no reports of your men doing anything improper.”

“I assure you they will be well cared for,” the Father Abbot said. “But there have been a few who resisted. I am afraid there have been some deaths.”

The woman nodded her head. “unavoidable,” she said. “When that fool prime sided with Gersius he took this burden on his head.”

“What about the deaths of your men in the south Commonlands?” the bald man asked.

The Father Abbot glanced at Dellain and then nodded. “We have reports that Gersius has some allies. They seem to be moving through the south lands, causing trouble. Zahdain is hunting them, as are my own seekers, they won't elude us for long.”

“Zhadain,” the woman said with an expression like she wanted to spit. “After the mess she made of Eastgate I would rather have thrown her to the dogs.”

“You didn’t bother to warn us that an entire company of your elite soldiers had been moved to the temple,” the Father Abbot pointed out.

Yarvine scoffed. “There was no reason to warn you the temple was heavily guarded. You had already searched the temple and found nothing. She made no effort to tell us she was going to search it herself.”

“I hear rumor a large contingent of your women are on the move, heading west to your holy shrine,” the bald man said.

The woman nodded. “The Second company under Governess Commander Alayse. They will protect the shrine from the forces of Astikar.”

“A turn of good fortune for us then,” the bearded man said. “An entire company of your soldiers guarding a temple is better than marching at Gersius’s side.”

“Indeed,” the Father Abbot agreed. “But we can’t overlook how close to Calathen they are. If Gersius surfaces anywhere near them, we may have to take the temple.”

“You will find it heavily fortified,” the woman said. “Ulustrahs crystal bowl is there. They will likely fight to the death to defend it.”

The Father Abbot nodded. “Then we move ahead with the plan and block all the roads Gersius could use before he presents us with this problem.”

“As I suggested,” the stranger added.

The young man turned to look at the copper-skinned man and pointed at him with the coin between two fingers.

“You always show up when the plan needs adjusting,” he said. “Who are you really?”

“He is the voice of the master,” the Father Abbot said. “He is only here to make sure we are all working together.”

The young man nodded but turned to look at the stranger again. “But surely you are somebody? A king? A priest? A weaver?”

“Does your coin show you nothing?” the stranger asked with a smile.

The youth flipped the coin and snatched it from the air. He smiled and looked into his palm. “All I see is a dragon,” he said.

The man nodded. “Then you have your answer.”