Chapter XLI

Just before dawn, as a band of gold hugged the horizon and the first stars began to fade, the militia soldiers awoke to the sound of hundreds of hoof-beats. The one Uvino soldier present at the camp knew exactly what the sound meant, and began to cry out, “AMBUSH! ARM YOURSELVES! UP! UP! TO ARMS!” as loud as he could as he scrambled to change from his sleeping clothes into his armor. Most of the militia soldiers didn't bother with armor, especially since most of them couldn't move in it anyway. They scrambled for their weapons. Most of them hadn't processed that this was a cavalry attack, and thus were content to grab their axes and hammers before they left their tents.

Just as they left their tents, however, the enemies' horses leaped over the spiked barricades they'd arranged around the perimeter of the camp and cut through them. Lances impaled the militia soldiers. Long-swords cut them to ribbons. Flails smashed their faces or chests. Many others were simply trampled by the enemy horses, which leaped over the barricades on their way to leaving the camp as well. Just as the knights had ridden out of the camp, and while the militia soldiers were still trying to collect themselves, a volley of arrows rained down out of the sky. The arrows swept across the entire camp. The militia soldiers barely saw the arrows in the air before it was too late because of all of the dust which the horses had kicked up as they rode through the camp.

Just as the arrows had finished raining down on the camp the infantry came in, led by Grand Duke Jachai himself. They squeezed in between the gaps in the barricade, taking advantage of the confusion in the camp, and cut through the inexperienced militia soldiers. With two hands on his claymore Jachai slashed through these peasants who fought for the false Queen.

One brave militia soldier charged Jachai with a wood ax in either hand, but Jachai stabbed forward with his claymore. The blade had far more reach than the peasant's axes, so the peasant was stopped long before he could reach Jachai as the blade went straight through him. Just as another militia soldier rushed Jachai with a blacksmith's hammer in hand, Jachai ripped his sword from the previous soldier's gut and brought it across. He cut through his next assailant's midsection before he could reach him.

Jachai's soldiers marched through the camp, massacring any resistance against them. In several of the tents they found militia soldiers who hadn't bothered to arm themselves or leave the tents. They were still cowering inside, with their blankets and bedrolls pulled over them.

“No one survives!” Jachai called out.

The cowards in their tents huddled together. They cringed as Jachai's soldiers tore away their tents and stabbed them where they sat. Some of the cowering peasants tried to run as soon as the tents were lifted, but Jachai's soldiers grabbed them and dragged them back before, and hacked them to pieces.

In less than an hour the entire camp was wiped out. Not a single one of the militia volunteers present had survived, and Jachai had suffered only minor casualties. Was it truly that these peasants were such weak warriors that his soldiers were able to so easily defeat them? Was the surprise attack just planned out well enough? Or was the Inquisition right, and Jachai had earned the closest thing to divine favor anyone could earn when he joined the True Way? Jachai thought it could be any one of these things, or perhaps even all of these things. In any case, if the other armies surrounding the capital had as much success as he'd had there then the siege would be relatively easy.

There was something so satisfying, to him, about putting down these commoners. He truly enjoyed slaying these lazy fools who'd never known battle and fancied themselves equals to those who had shed their blood for Arx. “Just look at them,” he thought, “Undisciplined, pathetic, hopeless! Had Arx been left in their hands we would have fallen to our enemies generations ago. It's time we showed them just how much they need us!”

After the battle Jachai's soldiers set to raid the tents. They took whatever supplies they found useful, whether those supplies were food, boots, bedrolls, or additional arrows. Jachai helped with the clean up, and threw the bodies of the fallen militia soldiers into the field outside of the camp. They'd be a feast for the vultures and wild dogs. He would not bury these commoners playing soldier, he was not one to respect his enemies.

Soon after he and his soldiers had rearranged the camp for their own purposes, a letter arrived for Jachai.

“Your Excellency,

“We have discovered that a large number of refugees from the capital have left Aius and gone to Caelum Academy, where, it is believed, they will be under the protection of the paladin cadets and the professors there. Several are still on the road to Caelum, and if we moved quickly we could intercept them. What do you propose we do?

“Best Regards,

“Commander Mirit”

As embittered as he'd become against anyone who supported Queen Aryn at this point, Jachai still could not see any benefit in attacking scared refugees. Caelum Academy was a potential problem, however. It wouldn't surprise Jachai if several fully-trained paladins had been sent to wait there and come in to flank his army when they laid siege to the capital. Still, to outright attack the academy would cost him far too many soldiers, so he wrote back:

“Commander Mirit,

“Leave the refugees be. Our war is not against children and the old who can't defend themselves our war is against the Pretender Queen. Nevertheless we cannot risk Caelum Academy providing reinforcements when we lay siege to the capital. Assign a large contingent of soldiers to guard the road between Caelum and the capital. Tell them that should even a single paladin exit the academy to reinforce the Pretender Queen's army they are to send runners to inform the rest of us immediately.

“Best Wishes,

“Grand Duke Jachai”

With that Jachai was certain his army would not be flanked when they reached Aius. They'd blocked the road to the capital from Caelum, all of the bridges were destroyed by now. Once all of his forces had crossed the river he'd made sure to destroy the boats that had brought them across, which meant that Marquise Nerissa would not be able to follow them. With the exception of Mahla and her forces every one of Jachai's allies was on the right side of the river, now they had but to begin the march to Aius.

The real problem was going to be slowly introducing those loyal to him to the True Way. He'd already explained to the other lords that the Inqusition's witch-hunters would be fighting beside their troops, and they accepted this as nothing more than a strategic alliance. It would take time to get them to understand that the Inquisition was right, that God was truly dead and that only Sandalphon now stood for God's wishes.

. . .

“Your majesty! I'm begging you, stop!” cried out Arch-Bishop Livana as she chased after Aryn. Milo, Shamira, and Tamas followed closely.

“This will solve nothing!” Milo called out.

“Do not let that murderer become Queen!” called out Tamas.

“You heard the reports!” called back Aryn. “The militia camps were destroyed! The only survivors were those who managed to escape in time and run back to the capital! They have the city surrounded, and the militia can do nothing to stop them! Maybe if I turn myself in, surrender, no one else will have to die!”

“Listen to yourself!” Shamira said. “You think if you surrender and let a mercenary take the throne you'll stop the war? No, I know Mahla's reputation, I've heard the stories of what she does to her enemies.”

“I don't care!” Aryn shouted. “I don't care if she executes me! I'd rather die than bring any more death to my people!”

“If you die your people will all suffer for it!” Tamas yelled back. “You think Mahla's going to suffer those who supported you to live? You think she'd be content to spending her years as Queen of Arx watching over her shoulder, afraid of the next assassin or rebel uprising? No, she'll kill everyone who joined the militia, and murder their families! If she wins this war everyone who stood with you will have committed treason. Do you honestly think she'll let that go?”

Aryn stared at Tamas with tears in her eyes and her lower lip shaking, “You heard the report...so much death. All those people had families. Wives, husbands, children, mothers, fathers. They didn't stand a chance! They thought they could win because they thought their cause was just, they thought supporting me was just!” Aryn took off her tiara and threw it on the ground. “But I have no right to this crown! Jachai is right, I am a Pretender Queen, wielding power that is not mine!”

“The Council decides who is worthy,” Milo said. “They chose you.”

“But God didn't,” Aryn said. “You're a paladin, Milo...Father...you know what the Scriptures say! God blessed King Melech's line to forever sit on the throne of Arx. Maybe that's why we're losing this war. God is angry because a pretender is on the throne.”

“No, Aryn!” Livana said. “Your Majesty, please come with me. There's something I should have shown you a long time ago.” Aryn raised an eyebrow at Livana, silently questioning this, but Livana merely nodded and held out her hand. Aryn reluctantly took her hand and Livana turned to Milo, Tamas, and Shamira. “Would you mind staying here?”

“If you think that's wise,” said Shamira.

“And if her Majesty does not mind,” said Milo.

Aryn nodded and wiped the tears from her eyes. “I trust whatever the Arch-Bishop has to tell me is private.”

So Aryn and Livana left the three bodyguards behind, and Livana took Aryn to the Grand Cathedral just outside the castle walls.

One of the Cathedral's priestesses greeted them, “Arch-Bishop, glad to see you're back.”

Livana nodded to the priestess. “Thank you. Bring me the marble key, if you would.”

The priestess' eyes widened and her mouth fell open, “Arch-Bishop, are you sure?”

“Yes!” Livana said. “We have need of it.” Aryn gave Livana and the priestess another questioning look, but neither said anything. The priestess retreated into another room, and soon came back with a key made of white and gray marble. Livana looked at it and smiled, “I didn't even know about this key until I was made Arch-Bishop. Only a handful of priests and priestesses supporting the Arch-Bishop know of its existence. This key gives the Arch-Bishop access to the Weeping Sanctuary. Because Arch-Bishops access this room early in their careers, and are the only ones who can access it, we are able to be fully certain that Arch-Bishops can speak as to the will of God. It is a rare thing for anyone but an Arch-Bishop to see what is inside this room, and what you see within will almost certainly cause you to weep.”

Aryn stared blankly at Arch-Bishop Livana for a moment before saying, “And...it is important that I see what is inside?” She felt she'd wept enough lately.

“You don't have to,” said Livana. “If you agree to simply take my word on it from now on, to never speak again of surrendering to our enemies, then it will not be necessary to show you what's inside. If, however, you still have doubts, it is important that those doubts be quashed. Time to decide, must you see the Weeping Sanctuary in order to have faith?”

“I must,” Aryn said, without hesitation. By now it was more curiosity that drove decision than any need for proof. Truthfully she was already almost certain that Livana was right, but with such a build up as to what was in this room she had to know, had to see with her own eyes.

The Arch-Bishop led Aryn into another room, one that appeared to be her own quarters, and lifted the rug off the floor. There was a small keyhole in the floor, and the Arch-Bishop placed the marble key in the keyhole cut into the stone tiles. “Stand close,” she said. Aryn closed the door and stood next to where Livana was leaning. Livana whispered into the floor. Aryn could barely hear the words, but she recognized it as Ancient Speak, the language in which the Law had been written. “Pa'am l'emet. Halleldon,” and then Livana turned the key.

The bricks in the floor around them slid back, and Aryn soon saw that the place where they stood was not just the floor of the Arch-Bishop's quarters, but also the top of a very tall pillar in an impossibly huge room under the ground. With a groan the pillar slowly began to lower into the dark room, but as they came into the room the crystals lining the walls began to glow, filling the room with a faint, blue glow. When Aryn looked down the room extended forever downward, and at the bottom she could see something orange flowing. As she stared at it she slowly realized what it was, molten rock, “liquid stone,” as the Agalmites called it. She grabbed hold of Livana, instinctively, to keep her balance.

The pillar stopped lowering after it had gone several stories underground. A stone bridge formed between the top of the pillar, where Livana and Aryn stood, and a door across the way. Livana took Aryn's hand again, led her across the narrow stone bridge, and opened the door. In the next room the floor and ceiling were both made of glowing crystal. Sitting on top of a table made of emerald, were several ancient books, bound in leather, each with the symbols of the Ancient Script written on them.

Livana walked over to one of the books, picking it up. On the front there was a word that Aryn did not recognize, given that it was written in the Ancient Script, but she did recognize the symbol above that word. The symbol was a small, three-pointed crown.

“I suppose this won't mean as much to one who doesn't speak the Ancient Tongue,” Livana began. She gestured to the other books on the emerald table. “These are books of prophecy, all of them. You have the Book of Swords, which tells us of great warriors, heroes destined to save Arx's people from their enemies. You have the Book of Cups, which tells us of generous benefactors destined to bless Arx with prosperity. You have the Book of Shields, which tells us the name of everyone destined to become a bishop, as well as everyone destined to become an Arch-Bishop.” Livana held up the book in her hand. “This is the Book of Crowns, it tells us the name and history of every rightful King or Queen of Arx. Not a single monarch mentioned in this book is not of Melech's line, you understand?” Livana opened up the book and flipped through the pages. “Now, before I show you what the book says I want to give you a brief lesson in Ancient Script.” Livana took a small piece of chalk from the ground and walked over to the wall, which was made of slate, and she began to draw a symbol. “This symbol makes the 'Ah' sound.” She drew another symbol. “This one the 'Ri' sound,” and another symbol, “this one the 'In' sound. That being said,” Livana dropped the chalk and pointed to a spot on a page in the Book of Crowns, holding it up to Aryn. The spot where she was pointing was the heading of a new chapter, as far as Aryn could tell, and the word was large and the letters fancy. “What is that word, then?”

“Ah-Ri-In...” she thought for a moment, and then it dawned on her. “ARYN! That's my name written there!” A chill washed over her entire body, and for a moment she thought she would fall.

“Yes, I'll read you some of the passage,” said Livana.

“Aryn. Her mother will be of Muri and her father a commoner, both will be paladins. A king who died to save his people will claim her as his daughter, and her reign will be contested. She will marry a prince from the West, but he will not have long to live. His own blade will slay him. She will befriend those in the West and those in the South, soon causing foreigners to stand together with her against a force seeking to destroy Arx. The Fallen Angel will soon lead the forces against her, but so long as she keeps fighting and keeps her faith God will stand with her, for she alone will have the chance to bring an age of peace between Arx and its enemies.

“She is of the bloodline of King Efrem, who fathered many bastards. In Muri Efrem lay with Tabitha, who begat Dalit, who begat Dov, who begat Dan, who begat Elchanan, who begat Zoe, who begat Sarahi. In Nihilus Efrem lay with Aisleen, who begat Amergin, who begat Cagney, who begat Casey, who begat Rylie, who came to follow our God and led his family to Arx, where he begat Isu, who begat Milo.”

As Aryn heard the story she realized not just that the bloodline listed there confirmed that she was the rightful Queen, but that this ancient book knew about her long before she was even born. It knew details of her life, including her true parentage and what was to happen to Paolo. Just as Livana promised, tears began to well up in Aryn's eyes as she thought about the gravity of the divine purpose of her life. “Who wrote these books?” Aryn asked in a wavering voice.

“Erelah, the first prophet, back when she was still alive. She passed the books on to her successor, who had the Weeping Sanctuary built to house them. The books are kept secret so that no one names their children and arranges their children's lives such that they may TRY to fulfill a prophecy.”

“You knew about all of this when you crowned me Queen?”

“Every Arch-Bishop consults the Book of Crowns before crowning a king or queen,” said Livana.

“Then...you knew Paolo was going to die...you didn't say anything, or try to prevent it...”

“I knew he was going to die young. I didn't know how young or how he was going to die, so there's nothing I could have done to stop it. I'm sorry.”

Aryn fell to her knees, the emotions overtaking her. Never before had she felt so in the presence of a higher power, both so strong and so weak at the same time. It was all true, then. She was the rightful Queen, the one God himself had chosen. Her birth was no accident, even the fact that her true father was a commoner was not an accident. Everything had been planned out ahead of time. Yes, Milo, Shamira, Tamas, and Livana were right. Defending the kingdom, leading her people against their enemies, and surviving this war were her responsibility. She could not surrender, what horrors would the kingdom face if a false queen really did take the throne? She wasn't going to let that happen. Mahla may have been of Melech's bloodline, but it was not Mahla's name written in the Book of Crowns, it wasn't Mahla who was destined to lead Arx to a time of peace.

“There's one more thing the Book of Crowns says about you,” Livana said.

“Yes?” Aryn choked out, barely able to breathe.

“Fear not, for when the hour is darkest I, Erelah, shall come to Queen Aryn's aid. I shall return from Heaven, wielding miracles far more amazing than before, and our God's true glory shall be known in that day.”