Chapter XLII

Traveling day and night brought Galia and Ardal to the castle of Duke Sahar in short time. The castle had been built after the Arxian invasion, raised up by geomancers on the top of a tall hill. In fact, most of the stone making up the castle had come from the rocks and sand in the hill itself, and as such the castle was made largely of a combination of quartz, granite, and sandstone. There was no moat around the castle, but Jachai had taken steps to make the castle especially intimidating to those who might attempt to lay siege to it. Spikes lined the walls, with skulls impaled on those spikes. The ground surrounding the castle was full of holes and jagged rocks, intended to make approaching the castle from any direction other than right at the front gate, on the steps, extremely difficult, especially for an army attempting to lay siege to it. The steps that led up to the castle were intentionally uneven, which meant that those approaching the castle would have to watch their steps in order to avoid tripping. This measure saved the inhabitants of the castle plenty of times, as attacking enemies would take even longer than usual to get up the steps, and the archers had plenty of time to shoot them.

Under Sahar's leadership, however, the skulls had been removed from the spikes, though the spikes themselves were still left there. Iron plates had been added to the walls to make the architecture look slightly more like a traditional Nihilite castle. Finally a wooden fence had been built around the walls, a fence which was shoulder-height, meant mostly as an extra obstacle for enemy armies.

The guard at the gate at the fence held up his hand when Galia and Ardal arrived. “Halt. State your business here.”

“We're seeking refuge,” said Galia. “I'm a bishop of the Agalmite church, Bishop Galia, and I demand sanctuary.”

Ardal stared at Galia, not sure if she truly was who she claimed.

“And who is this with you?” the guard asked.

“A pilgrim, and my charge,” said Galia. “Now, if you and your lord have any loyalty to the Church you will let us in.”

The guard shifted uncomfortably and then opened the small gate at the fence, “Alright, Mother, I meant no offense.”

“I am a bishop, you will address me as 'your Eminence,'” Galia said.

“Er, yes, your Eminence.”

Once Galia and Ardal were out of ear-shot of the guard at the first gate and the portcullis opened for them Ardal asked Galia, “Bit rude, don't you think?”

“He'd expect rude from a bishop,” Galia said. “Sadly many bishops truly are rude.”

“Speaking of which...are you?”

“Am I what?”

“A bishop,” Ardal asked.

“Yes,” Galia said. “The night Val destroyed Bogeid a bishop came to the temple and swore me in as one. I was going to use my new authority as a bishop to depose Sir Gilad, solve the problem relatively peacefully.”

“But the real problem wasn't Sir Gilad,” Ardal said. “No, the real problem was all the hate he'd stirred up over the years.”

Soon after they'd passed through the second gate and into the main square of the castle, Duke Sahar came out to greet them. For a fleeting moment, as Ardal looked at the young duke's face he could swear he knew him from somewhere. Something about his eyes looked very familiar.

“For the guard at the front gate to let you in without even asking me you must be someone of great importance,” said Sahar as he took off his riding gloves.

“I am Bishop Galia, and this is my charge, Ardal.”

“Oh! Your eminence!” Sahar bowed to her and took her hand in his. He leaned in to kiss the ring on her hand, which bishops typically wore, but saw that she wore no such ring, so he simply kissed the back of her hand. “I have heard your name, your Eminence. They said that when the city of Bogeid was taken by the Nihilite rebels you were surely dead.”

“Obviously that is not so,” said Galia. “One of the Nihilite rebels was kind-hearted enough to convince the others to simply hold me prisoner, rather than throw me into the fires.” To her it was certainly worth it to mention that a Nihilite rebel had been kind to her. It might help her, later on, when she had to convince the young duke to have mercy on the Nihilite people.

“I take it this is he?” Sahar said, looking at Ardal.

“No!” Galia said. “No, this is a pilgrim, he was helping build temples in Shadia-”

“Is that so?” Sahar interrupted. “If you're a pilgrim then recite the first few lines of the Book of Origins.”

Ardal stared blankly at Sahar. He'd been hoping Elykos would feed him the answer, and even silently prayed for that, but nothing came to mind.

“I thought so. He's not an Agalmite,” Sahar said. “It's alright, you don't need to hide it from me. Like her Eminence said, you were kind-hearted enough to save her life. Regardless of your faith that makes you a good man. Just know that we'll keep an eye you, and should you attempt anything while within these walls my guards will stop you.”

Ardal was at first relieved, and then struck by Sahar's utter foolishness. He had no real reason to trust either Ardal or Galia, no reason to believe that Galia truly was a bishop of the Agalmite Church and not secretly a Nihilite rebel herself. Even if she was, Ardal was certainly a Nihilite rebel, which meant that regardless of whether or not he was a good man he'd have all the reason in the world to want Sahar dead. Of course, he had no intentions of killing Sahar, he'd seen more than enough bloodshed already. Frankly he was sick of all the violence. Perhaps Elykos had influence over Sahar's mind, and was the reason why Sahar was so quick to take in Galia and Ardal. He'd certainly helped Ardal more times than he could count before.

“Thank you, your Excellency,” Ardal said with a bow.

Sahar led the two of them into the keep. “When I heard that the Nihilite rebels had taken Bogeid I started sending troops immediately to attempt to retake the city. I'd heard that you, Bishop Galia, were trapped inside, possibly dead, along with several others. I would have sent many more soldiers, if Arx weren't in the middle of a civil war. I've had to send most of my troops to support Grand Duke Jachai.”

How foolish was this young man? Ardal was utterly shocked that Sahar was talking about roughly how many troops he had at his disposal with Ardal present, knowing full well that he was a rebel. It didn't truly matter in the long run, Elykos could easily learn these secrets anyway, but Sahar couldn't know that. For all that Jachai had taught this young man about combat he certainly hadn't taught him much about discretion.

“I believe I'm the only non-Nihilite who was left in the city,” said Galia.

“Then there's no point in trying to retake Bogeid,” Sahar said with a sad sigh. “It would just be a waste of life.”

“Trying to take back the city in the first place was a waste of life,” Ardal said.

Sahar glared at him, “Yes, well, I didn't know that until now, thank you. I thought there were still people in there to save. Do you delight in rubbing salt in open wounds?”

“I...I'm sorry, your Excellency, that was insensitive of me,” Ardal said.

“Yes, it was,” Sahar said. “Do you know how hard it is to order young people to go out and fight when you know full well many of them will never come back, never see their families again?” Sahar’s eyes got misty as he spoke, and his lower lip shook.

“I...not really...”

“Then I suggest you hold your tongue!” said Sahar, clearing his throat as his voice wavered.

Sahar led them up to a corridor with several doors across from a balcony that oversaw the foyer of the keep. “Do you need two guest rooms or just one?” Sahar asked.

“Two,” both Galia and Ardal said in unison.

Sahar smirked, “You sure? You look like such a cute couple.”

Galia shook her head, “Priestesses vow not to marry anyone not a member of Agalmite clergy, I'm sure you know that.”

Sahar shrugged, “I've known a few bishops to bend the rules. Certainly sleeping with someone does not mean you're married. I'm sorry I assumed too much about your relationship. It wasn't polite of me. Ardal, why don't you take this room here. The next one over can be yours, your Eminence. And, if you don't mind, your Eminence, I would like to discuss a matter of strategy with you, privately.”

“Certainly,” said Galia. “Will you be fine on your own, Ardal?”

“Go ahead,” Ardal said as he stretched his back and walked over to his room. “I'll get some sleep in the meantime.”

“You do look weary from the road,” said Sahar. “Don't worry, your Eminence, our discussion will not take long.”

As Ardal collapsed onto the comfortable bed in the guest room and dropped his belongings on the floor beside it, Sahar led Galia to his private office. There were paintings on the walls of various famous Arxian heroes, most of which Galia recognized from their descriptions in their tales. Galia took a seat across from Sahar's desk.

“What did you want to discuss?” Galia asked.

“Most of the paladins and geomancers in Nihilus have gone to Arx, the Church is backing Queen Aryn in the civil war. What's worse, Grand Duke Jachai demanded most of my soldiers, so I am left almost helpless. For a while I was relying on the Inquisition for support, a terrible position for anyone to be in, but now they too are heading west to get involved in the Arxian civil war. I have yet to see whose side they will take. That being said, much of Nihilus is all but defenseless against the rebels. Honestly, with things as bad as they are I'd almost be willing to just give the Nihilites back their land, if I wasn't so sure they would take revenge on the people of Arx. There are Arxians living in Nihilus, and many of them are civilians. There are also many people of Nihilite descent who have converted to the Agalmite faith. If the Nihilites retake Nihilus they will likely slaughter all of those people. The problem is, the Nihilites will almost certainly take Nihilus back whether or not I 'let them.' When that happens refugees will flood into this castle, seeking protection from the angry Nihilites. I simply don't have enough soldiers here to withstand that kind of attack. That's why I need your help.”

“My help?” Galia repeated. “What can I do? I'm a bishop, and that gives me some pull in the Church, yes, but without paladins supporting me that authority counts for very little.”

“True,” said Sahar, “But think about this, the Agalmite priests left behind in Nihilus will still answer to you. Few of them are warriors by any stretch of the imagination, but it is my understanding that Agalmite priests can make golems, yes?”

“We...we can animate statues made of clay or stone with our enchantments, yes, but without geomancers we'd have to carve the stone by hand.”

“I've had stone-cutters working night and day,” Sahar said. “We need this. A golem army is the only hope refugees in this castle will have. Without it the Nihilite rebels will massacre every Agalmite in the Duchy.”

“So, you want me to write letters to all of the priests in Nihilus directing them to come here, to your castle, to build this army of golems for you?”

“That's what I'm suggesting.”

“Sounds like a solid plan,” Galia said. “In the morning I'll get to it.”

“Thank you, your Eminence,” Sahar said. “Now, go get some sleep, you've more than earned it.”

Galia stood from the chair and started for the door, but when she saw that Sahar wasn't moving from his chair she asked, “You're not going to get any sleep, your Excellency?”

“I've not earned it yet. Much more work to do.” As he said it he dipped a quill in the ink well and pulled up a slip of paper to the desk.

“Thank you, by the way, for taking us in,” Galia said, smiling at him.

“It's my duty, and my pleasure,” Sahar said, without looking up from whatever he was writing.

Galia walked off to her guest room and plopped down on the bed.

. . .

Several hours later, Ardal heard that all too familiar voice in his mind, “You're exactly where I need you. Good.”

“Elykos,” he jumped up in bed and rubbed his eyes. His heart pounded in anticipation of Elykos' new orders. What horrible thing would Elykos order him to do now?

“This will be the last thing I demand of you, Ardal,” Elykos said. “Do this and I will never trouble you again. Oh, you will still be under my protection, I will still watch over you, but I will never again give you any commands.”

“Please...no...”

“At the end of this hallway is Duke Sahar's office. He has fallen asleep at his desk. There's a dagger on the desk. Take it. Cut his throat. I will make sure you are not caught. After that you may stay here, or you may leave, the choice is up to you, but rest assured, Galia will be safe.”

“Please...no! Sahar has been kind to us! He's given Galia and I a place to stay, even though he knows I am a Nihilite rebel! He's been kind, I can't repay that kindness with murder! I can't do this!”

“You will do as I have commanded! If Duke Sahar dies our people will be able to set Nihilus free in a fortnight! All of the other Arxian lords are off fighting in the civil war. Without leadership here the Arxian forces will fall!”

“Why me?”

“Because I saved your life, Ardal! I made sure you were healed. I got you cured of the Gavish when you thought you were sure to die! Because you are the only one of my people inside the castle right now! This is your time to shine! I'll make sure all of my loyal subjects know your name, that they know you're the one who won the war for us! You'll be a hero, praised and loved!”

“NO!”

“Pardon?”

“No! I refuse! I won't do it!”

“Then you already know what will happen to Galia.”

“You bastard!”

“I do what it takes to win, because I have the spine to do so. Do you have the spine? Or are you a gutless coward who would rather let the woman he claims to love die because he's 'seen too much bloodshed?' Be a man!”

“The Void with you! If you can kill her so easily then why can't you kill Sahar yourself?”

“I'm already in Galia's mind, well enough to where I can control her, make her throw herself from a high place. I've been working on getting there for years. Sahar? I would need more time to gain that kind of control over him, time we do not have. You must be the one to kill Duke Sahar!” There was a pause. “I've heard your doubts, Ardal. Heard you thinking about how evil you think I am, heard you having moments of sympathy for Saklas. You know what the difference is between doubts and blasphemies, Ardal?”

“No.”

“What you decide to do with them. Get up. Go to Sahar's office. Slit his throat. I will not tell you again. Galia will pay for your blasphemy if you do not. Moreover your soul will be forfeit. The daemons will know of your betrayal, and we do not take kindly to traitors.”

Tears poured from Ardal's eyes as he forced himself out of the bed and onto his feet. His bare feet touched the cold stone floor. It was probably better that he stayed barefoot, really. He'd be far less likely to make noise on his approach. He slowly opened the door and peered out into the hall. When the hall appeared to be clear he walked down the hall as softly as he could. He was a fairly big man, so walking softly was difficult for him. Thankfully the hall was silent enough.

In the dark he could barely see the hallway leading to Duke Sahar's office, but he knew where it was by Elykos' description. One final demand. Ardal wasn't sure how much he believed that Elykos would never bother him again, but he had to take the chance. He needed Elykos to leave him alone. He'd had enough at this point not just of war, but of gods and daemons as well. Why couldn't human beings just live their own lives without involving higher beings? Why couldn't they just be? As far as Ardal could tell animals didn't pray, they just lived, just did what they needed to in order to survive. They ate when they were hungry, slept when they were tired, and had sex when they felt the desire. Why couldn't life be more like that? Why was it all politics, war, deception, hate, and greed? No, faith in higher beings weren’t the root of those problems. Those problems were so much to bear that people turned to faith just in order to endure it all, but even that faith ended up part of the problem much of the time.

For a moment Ardal prayed a very different kind of prayer, “If there is any power higher than Elykos, Saklas, Prunikos, the Western Gods, the Ancestors, or any of these other gods we hear about every day, please, give us peace! Let this murder I am about to commit usher in a better age!” He didn't know if that prayer had fallen on deaf ears, or perhaps no ears at all, but he felt a little better just thinking it. There was hope in the thought that there might be some greater being had heard him, one who wasn’t as cruel as Elykos.

He opened the door to Sahar's office and saw Sahar face-down on his desk, asleep. The candle on his desk was all but burned out, with melted wax spilled all over the desk. There, sure as Elykos had promised, sitting on the desk and gleaming in the candlelight, was a dagger. The blade looked especially sharp, and clean. The dagger had likely never been used before. How poetically fitting it was that its first use should be on its owner.

Ardal crept over to the desk and quietly closed his fingers around the handle of the dagger. Just as he was lifting it off of the desk, however, Sahar awoke with a start and grabbed Ardal's forearm. Ardal could feel the blood course through the veins in his head. He knew he had to do something, and fast. He pushed forward with the dagger, threw his weight behind his arm in a desperate attempt to stab Sahar in the throat. Ardal’s forearms bruised from Sahar’s fingers, and no matter how hard he tried Sahar held him back.

“This is how you repay my hospitality?” Sahar asked with fury in his eyes. “Everything I've done for you and this is your idea of gratitude?”

The only thing that could save Ardal now, he thought, was his familiar. Surely Sahar would not stand a chance in single combat against a daemon that size. “Kam-”

But Ardal was cut off when Sahar yanked him over the desk and covered his mouth with his hand. Ardal was disoriented for the first moment, dizzy from being yanked over the desk. His own body had smashed the candle, putting out the flame, and the room was almost totally dark. He flailed both of his arms wildly and managed to get one arm free. In the dark he felt the dagger catch something and heard the sound of the blade tearing cloth and flesh, followed by Sahar's groans of pain. The very next thing he felt was Sahar's fist brought down on his face. It broke his nose and one of his teeth. Ardal swung wildly again. It was clear now that he had to kill Sahar soon or Sahar would surely win.

“Kam-” Ardal attempted to call for his familiar again, but again Sahar's fist struck his face. He felt the dagger snatched from his hand, and then felt its sharp blade thrust into his chest, slipped in between his ribs.

Sahar threw Ardal's dead, bleeding body off of his desk, and felt around for his matchbox. Once he'd found the matchbox he lit one of the matches and looked over the scene. The contents of the top of his desk had been strewn across the room, his quill broken in two, and Ardal lay sprawled out on the floor. Sahar's left forearm had a deep cut.

Four guards ran into Sahar's office, swords drawn. “We heard a commotion, Excellency, are you...” they stopped dead and stared at the scene; the dead man lying on the floor, the blood running down Sahar's arm, and the match, quickly burning out in Sahar's hand.

“It's my own damn fault.” Sahar shook the match. “I let a Nihilite rebel into this castle. I thought he'd be trustworthy, but I was wrong.”

“Do you need healing, Excellency?”

“No. I’ll stitch up the cut and be fine,” Sahar said. “Wake Bishop Galia. She will want to know about all of this. Once she's seen this traitor's body get rid of it.” Sahar cleaned the dagger and slipped it in one of the drawers of the desk. “Also, make sure he's dead.”

The guards drove their swords through Ardal's body from many different angles to pierce every vital organ they could and make sure he was dead. Ardal's body just lay there, eyes and mouth wide open as if still in complete surprise about the way things had turned out. Sure enough, though, Elykos would keep his promise. He'd never give Ardal another order again.