Paleos — Paleos people make excellent mercenaries, workers, and friends. They are rugged individuals and many enjoy strong ale and ribald stories. Slow to anger, but even slower to forgive, those born under the influence of The Gargoyle are steadfast allies and relentless enemies.
Necros — These are quiet, intelligent, untiring people who usually mind their own business and expect others to do the same. They are often misunderstood, as is their sign: negative spirit is a necessary part of the cycle, but unenlightened souls see Necros only as the death sign.
Chapter 52
Arch-Vicar General Barabus looked back over his shoulder into the room he’d just exited. The room shone brightly with the early morning sunlight. In the center of the room, at a plain oak table sat the High Priest Verigas. The man had just finished recanting a rather fabulous tale to Barabus and his associate, the Arch-Diocate Iskerus. Barabus shut the door behind him.
“Well, do you believe him?” Barabus asked the other as they stood in the narrow marble corridor outside the interview room.
The Arch-Diocate grimaced. “Unfortunately, I don’t have much choice. I did a Test of Truth upon him the entire time. He, at least, believes he is telling the truth.”
Barabus nodded solemnly in agreement, “I did the same.”
Somewhat sadly the Arch-Diocate went on, “Further, it also seems coincident with the Visions this brother Ferenas in Halfenfork reported.”
“The major war coming upon us? You read those reports too?”
The Arch-Diocate simply nodded sourly. “I hate living in such amusing times, Lord Barabus. Don’t you?”
“I could certainly do with a bit of retirement, if that’s what you mean.” The 63-year old Arch-Vicar General looked longingly up at the ceiling. “Such it appears, is not the will of our Master.”
“So, you are our resident military expert, Barabus, what do you suggest?”
The Arch-Vicar General paused for a moment, looking down at his feet. He sighed heavily. “I suppose we have no choice. One of our own brought this about; we must correct it.”
“Incidentally,” Iskerus interjected, “Verigas will have to answer for this demon summoning business, Archaedemon aside.”
“Of course, of course,” Barabus agreed, “but I feel part of his restitution should come in helping to clean up the mess.”
“Naturally,” Iskerus agreed.
“I will summon the Rod. I believe I can have the legions ready to sail for Freehold within a day. Short notice as it is, but we do pride ourselves on being ever vigilant.” Barabus shook his head sadly as he spoke.
“Sir Talarius?”
Barabus closed his eyes. “I was afraid you’d mention him.”
“I know you’re not overly fond of the man, but he is Knight Rampant. The highest of our knighted cadre, and one of our few demon slayers.”
“He has slain more than a few demons in his day,” Barabus admitted. “I just can’t say I approve of his attitude though.”
“He is efficient at what he does.”
“Yes,” Barabus agreed morosely.
“You agree then?”
“Yes, I suppose we do need him. Although you did not hear that from me.”
“Fine, then I’ll arrange to have him notified.”
“I suppose you’ll have him meet us in Hoggensforth? He’ll be bringing that horse of his.” Barabus observed.
“That’s probably best. I shall send a message to Talarius. And arrange for the necessary replacement for Verigas while he is with you.”
“Let the Rod be drawn.”
“Let the Will be done.”
“As Tiernon’s fight is won.” The last line was spoken in unison with upraised heads, as the two priests started to begin their preparations for a battle they must win.
Chapter 53
Maelen stared eastwardly across the sea. His Sight, as ever, was true. Normal eyes could now reveal the craft on the horizon. It was gaining rapidly. Extremely rapidly. He’d alerted the ship’s master an hour ago. For once, a layman had taken him completely seriously with no question. The captain had obviously been expecting something similar.
Maelen cursed his luck to be on this ship. Luck, no, he cursed fate. He knew the only luck was that which he made for himself. Try as he might, his choices were constrained. His Sight limiting him in more ways than laymen could imagine. Perhaps fortunately, he wasn’t truly a great Seer; that would be a curse.
He’d had trepidation as soon as he’d spotted the vessel in the harbor. Something definitely amiss about it. While there were multiple routes to his arranged meeting with this sorcerer Johen wanted him to speak with, he had, unfortunately, Seen himself in Hoggensforth in the very near future, and this ship was the only way to get there on schedule. He could have ignored the Seeing, but all the other possibilities his limited Sight revealed to him were much less appealing.
He’d overheard the captain talking about pirates to the other four passengers. Pirates was close, but not accurate. Perhaps, avenging police force might be a better word, or words. Captain Asmeth was a smuggler, Maelen was nearly positive. While as far as he could determine, Asmeth wasn’t actually wanted in Gizzor Del, like anyone ever was, nor was he wanted in Hoggensforth; the man did have enemies.
The matter was not helped by the fact that Maelen could easily extend his eyesight and reveal the flag of Oorstemoth flying on the approaching vessel. Maelen had only been there once, long ago. The people had a rather overzealous attitude towards law and order. Not, as Maelen could see it, any logical law and order, but some strange code of their own. Violators were hunted down rather ruthlessly. Recidivism among criminals was nil. No defendants ever seemed to survive the judicial process. Maelen was also relatively certain that he, as a passenger on Asmeth’s ship, would be considered an accomplice by Oorstemothian law. Thus, if he joined Asmeth at the bottom of the sea, so much the better.
Maelen glanced around the deck. His fellow passengers had apparently been hired to guard the ship in such an event as this. The young woman was pacing around in circles near the center of the middeck, she seemed to be biting her nails. Bad habit there, gave too much information away to casual observers.
The wizard Gastropé was peering at the Oorstemoth vessel through a telescoping device. He seemed rather calm, overall. The young boy, Rupert, was full of energy and excitement, peering over a stern rail at the approaching ship. Either the boy was so young he had no sense of the real danger, or he knew something about their chances that frankly escaped Maelen.
While Maelen had seen himself in Hoggensforth, there was no guarantee that he’d chosen the correct path to get there. He hadn’t seen any other, but he may have missed it, and chosen a dead end path instead. He didn’t feel, however, that he could afford the energy for another Seeing at the moment; he’d need it all too soon for healing. Also, he really wasn’t sure he wanted to know at this point.
The fourth passenger, Tom or Edwyrd, whichever his name actually was, also seemed nervous. Or perhaps tense with dread might be the better phrase. The lad had been extremely tense the entire journey, and, in fact, avoided Maelen more than any other young animage in his position would have. Most students at that age, if that’s what Tom actually was, who were pursuing a liberal education, were doing so on their own and hence always on the lookout for someone who could teach them something.
This reticence, which he’d sensed immediately, had at first led him to suspect the boy. However, when he’d looked at Tom’s aura, it had shown him so much power and life, that he’d nearly reversed his opinion completely. The young man was positively overflowing with it. Certainly not as well contained as one would expect from an animage with that much power, but so much life and magic that he had to be some form of Manipulator. The lad’s aura didn’t match any of the well-known patterns for wizards, nor did it seem to connect with the surroundings like a druid’s aura. While there were no obvious links to any divine sources, such as a priest would have, there was some form of minute link running extra planar. If, as seemed the only possible answer, Tom/Edwyrd really was an animage, then he must have some knowledge of astramastery.