Chapter XXXI

“How do I tell him? How do I tell him his father is dead?” Caleb wrung his hands as he walked through the Bastion's main hall. Khol was hiding in there somewhere, still afraid of the enemy outside those walls. Shamira had insisted that Caleb be the one to tell Khol what had happened. She was a complete wreck every time she even thought about it. With a shaking voice Caleb called out, “Khol? Are you in here, boy?”

Khol rose from behind a barrel in the corner. “Caleb? I thought my Pa would be coming to get me.”

Caleb's heart stung at those words. He needed to tell him. He needed to tell him the truth. But not now. Not yet. Yes, he'd find the appropriate time. “He asked me to get you. I'm to escort you back to Aius.”

“Is the battle over?”

“Yes.” Caleb feigned a triumphant smile. “Yes, the battle's over. The Berknot Militia is gone.”

“And my Pa will meet up with me in Aius? Why isn't he coming along?”

“He...” Caleb wanted to tell him the truth. He knew the boy had a right to know. But how can you drop that kind of news on someone so young? The boy may not even understand the concept of death. “He went on ahead to make it safe for you. Come on, we'd best get moving. We can't go straight to Aius, so we'll have to go east, to Nihilus first.”

“Why to Nihilus?”

“Because those Berknot Militia fu...” Caleb paused a moment, remembered who he was talking to, and said, “Fools are probably still lurking around out there. We'll go to Nihilus first and then see if we can figure out another way into back to Aius.”

“You think the people of Nihilus will know a way in?”

Caleb shrugged. “For centuries they managed to sneak their people in so they could infiltrate Arxian cities. They must know something about how to get in undetected.”

Khol started gathering up his belongings. “And Pa will meet us where? Back in Aius or in Nihilus?”

“He...he didn't say where we would meet up with him again,” Caleb said, his palms starting to sweat. Why couldn't he bring himself to just tell this boy the truth? He needed to put it out of his mind. For now he needed to focus on getting the boy home safely. Maybe his mother would be better suited to break the news to him.

“That's strange,” said Khol, tilting his head to one side and giving Caleb a skeptical look. “He wouldn't leave without saying at least that much.”

“Shall we get going?” asked Caleb, wringing his hands.

“Fine. Let's get on the road.”

. . .

With every slide of the whetstone Emylas' dagger became just a bit more deadly. The spirits of the dead longed for blood, it made them feel alive again. With the battle in Nox imminent Emylas knew it was his chance to make many a spectral friend. He tested the blade on a piece of cloth, which it sliced through ever so easily. Perfect.

“I hope I'm not interrupting anything,” came Evalina's sweet voice from behind him.

“You're never interrupting me,” said Emylas. “Whatever I'm doing, you're more important.”

Evalina held both her hands together in front of her lap and looked down. “I wanted to talk to you...you know...about the way things have turned out.”

“It's alright, Eva,” said Emylas, sheathing his dagger. “My dear, we knew this was the way things would be when we agreed to Akhert's terms years ago.”

Evalina pulled closed the curtain concealing the cavern that held the two of them. She listened through the curtain for an extra moment, as if trying to make sure that no one else was nearby, before she ran to Emylas and threw her arms around his neck. Emylas kissed her on the lips and held her around the waist.

“I'll always love you best,” Evalina whispered.

“I know. And I'll never love anyone but you,” Emylas whispered back.

“Dario's going to live forever, you know. In some form or another. Unless he grows tired of me I will never be able to leave his side. We will never...”

Emylas ran his thumb along Evalina's soft lips, causing her to tremble and forget her train of thought. “No matter whose mouth kisses yours...” his other hand cupped her lower abdomen, “...Or whose child grows in this womb...” Emylas moved his hand from her lips down to her chest. “...I will be satisfied that this belongs to me.”

“My breasts?” Evalina said with a giggle.

“Your heart,” said Emylas, smirking. “Though I wouldn't mind your breasts too.”

Evalina leaned in and kissed Emylas on the lips. As their mouths met Emylas understood that this would probably be their last kiss ever. But they had both decided on this a long time ago. Immortality was far too important to both of them for them to take any other course of action. Akhert would give them both salvation and freedom, something no other god or spirit would grant. All it took was one favor.

Emylas gently pushed his love away when he heard footsteps approaching. The curtain slid to one side, and Dario stood in the doorway. “Emylas, there you are. The Rahmit stand ready to invade the surface, but Akhert wants you and I to lead them into battle.”

“I will be right there,” said Emylas, avoiding eye contact with Dario. Hopefully, the former justicar would not see the blush on his cheeks. “Just finishing up a few more things.”

“If we time this right we'll be emerging in Nox as soon as the sun starts to set. The darkness should give the Rahmit the upper-hand.”

“Sounds like a plan, Dario,” said Emylas, biting the inside of his lip and nodding.

“What I don’t understand is why Akhert insists that you be there too. You’re not a warrior, are you?”

“Not in the strictest sense,” said Emylas. “But you’ve seen a little of what I’m capable of. You think I can’t use that in a battle?”

“I suppose you could,” said Dario. He turned his attention to Evalina, scooped her into his arms, and kissed her fiercely on the lips. Emylas couldn't watch, so he busied himself with gathering up his things. “Evalina, you’ll be safe here. Stay in Duat. When the battle’s over I’ll come back for you.”

“I’ll do as you request,” Evalina said, kissing him again.

“Shall we be going?” asked Emylas, restraining the irritation in his voice. They’d agreed to all of this. He had to remind himself again that this was all part of the plan.

Emylas followed Dario to the front lines, where the Rahmit chipped away at the walls of the tunnels leading up to Nox. With each swing of their strange tools they made the tunnels just a little wider. Hopefully in time it would be wide enough to let thousands of them through. The Inquisition would stand no chance against such an army.

“I'm coming for you, Cilicia,” said Dario. “Hold on just a little longer.”

. . .

Azalea had been busy healing the wounded from the day's battle. The sun had set, and Lord Kenaz's army gathered in a camp far outside the city's walls.

“Miserere Matris. Miserere Matris. Miserere Matris.” The chant sounded so disconcerting with so many acolytes and redeemers chanting it together. Perhaps because this was a reminder of just how many had been wounded.

Yet, among all of the wounded, Azalea found that there was one man not present: her father. If he wasn't here in the camp it might mean that the Inquisition had taken him prisoner again. What horrible things would they do to him next? What more could they do to him?

Azalea walked into the main part of the camp, where all of the soldiers sat drinking cheap beer and eating their rations.

“Has anyone here seen a man in his mid-forties with white hair and scars all over his face?” she asked. Not a word from the soldiers. Each of them continued eating their meals with mournful looks upon their faces. Some of the younger soldiers didn't even eat, they just stared ahead with broken eyes. Azalea continued on her way, repeating the question, but with no luck.

Eventually she found herself at the middle of the camp, where Lord Kenaz sat outside his tent eating his own dinner. Azalea mustered up her courage and approached the nobleman. “My Lord?”

Lord Kenaz looked up from his meal and wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin. “Yes?”

“I was wondering...have you seen a man in his mid-forties, covered in scars, with white hair?”

“There aren't that many men that age in this profession, girl,” Lord Kenaz said.

Azalea looked up at the Arxian lord. “So...that's a no?”

Lord Kenaz's eyes roamed over her for a moment and he licked his lip. “You're one of the redeemers from St. Archor's Abbey, aren't you?”

Azalea took a step away. “Why...yes, my Lord.”

“Splendid,” said Lord Kenaz. “I understand you offer 'comfort' to those patrons willing to pay?”

“Only to members of the Cult,” said Azalea. “If you do not worship the Father I cannot offer you comfort.”

Lord Kenaz stood from his chair and walked over to her. She cringed as he ran his fingers through her dark hair. “I'll pray to whatever god you want for a night with you.”

“Your grace, you forget yourself,” said Azalea. “Did you think I would not notice the ring upon your finger? Or the diamond in it? You are both married and a faithful Agalmite.”

“Married? Yes. Agalmite? Not truly,” said Lord Kenaz. “I can pay twice the usual price.”

Azalea pushed his hand away and gave him a stern look. “The answer, my Lord, is no.”

“Lord Kenaz!” a young woman shouted across the camp. Both Lord Kenaz and Azalea looked to the source of the shout. Judging by her armor, this young woman was a paladin. Judging by her face she was furious. “My Lord, earlier today, when you bid us to lay siege to Nox you gave the command to slaughter everyone inside, even the children. I hereby call upon you to recant that order.”

“My orders are my orders,” said Lord Kenaz. “You have no authority over me, paladin.”

“God has authority over you, your grace,” said the paladin, her hand resting on the hilt of her diamond longsword.

Azalea backed away from Lord Kenaz, almost certain of where this was heading. It was a welcome distraction, though. One that might soon give her the opportunity to get away.

Lord Kenaz chuckled. “I've been in the West for ten years now. In that time I've had more of the locals than I could count try to convince me that their gods were the ones I should pray to.” Lord Kenaz placed a hand on the hilt of his own sword. “Gods of war, gods of peace, gods of love, ancestors, the Father, the God of Erets...it's all the same. Every one of them tried to convince me by showing me the power of their gods. Maybe that's all a god is, something you get power from.” Lord Kenaz shrugged. “If that's the case my god is gold, and you'll find that out here in the West gold is a popular god indeed.”

The soldiers by all of the tents surrounding this scene all snickered and murmured in agreement with Lord Kenaz's statement.

“You can't be serious...” said the paladin.

“Ask anyone,” said Kenaz, gesturing to the soldiers nearby. “Around here we worship wealth. Even some of the most devout people you could imagine can be bought with enough gold. See, as much as they love their gods they love money more. It's that simple.” Kenaz unhooked his coin purse from his belt and jingled the money inside in front of the paladin. “How much would it take to buy you off? Or the other paladins? How much is your righteousness really worth?”

The paladin spat at him. “The Void with your gold!”

“One-hundred talents each?”

“My soul is not for sale!”

“One-thousand talents each?”

The paladin stared at him in shock for a moment. “How...how in the world do you even have that much money to spare?”

“When you pray to gold it finds its way into your pocket,” said Lord Kenaz. “Now, how about it? Ten-thousand talents for you and your paladin friends.”

She sneered at him, and Azalea backed further away from the scene, ready to run. “My soul is not for sale. None of ours are. They will not accept such a bribe.”

“You cannot be bought?” Lord Kenaz said. “Then maybe you can follow orders if you understand that the price of insubordination is death. I'm making a command decision here. I will not be questioned.”

“The paladins of Caelum will not stand for this!” the paladin drew her sword. “Sadly, there come times when war is necessary. In war we must sometimes do horrible things in the name of saving lives, but what you have commanded is a truly wicked act! Those who have sworn their lives to righteousness cannot let it stand.”

“You're sure that all of the paladins feel this way?” Lord Kenaz asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I'm certain. But I have come here myself to seek a peaceful solution. Please, recant the order to slaughter everyone in Nox!”

“I will not,” said Lord Kenaz. “The Inquisition must be crushed for good, otherwise they will rise again. And again. And again. It must be done! If you don't have the stomach to do what's necessary take the rest of the paladins with you and leave.”

The young woman slipped her shield over her left arm. “Lord Kenaz, I hereby challenge you to a duel on your honor! Do you accept?”

Lord Kenaz drew his own sword. “A duel won't be necessary. Sir Ketz.”

One of the knights who had been sitting silently, eating his rations jumped to his feet with a loaded crossbow in hand. The paladin saw him leap up and tried to turn to block the coming bolt with her shield, but she was just a moment too slow. The bolt pierced the paladin's throat and she slumped over dead.

Azalea screamed and ran.

As she scrambled away, she could still hear Lord Kenaz's voice. “Good work. The rest of the paladins will rise up against us when they hear of this. Take some initiative to ensure that doesn't happen.”

“Yes, your grace,” said Sir Ketz. Several more knights and soldiers stood from whatever log or stump they'd found to sit upon. They all grabbed their weapons and left the central camp with Sir Ketz.

Azalea fled across the camp, back to where the rest of the redeemers were still at work healing the wounded from the battle. She'd not been gone from the center of camp long before she started to hear screams fill the night, and not just the screams of the wounded before her. She retreated to her tent and buried her face in her pillow to drown out the sounds of the massacre which would go on for hours.