Battle SeerChapter 17: Steward Argenal
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Table of Contents Chapter 17, part 1 appears in this issue. |
The door opened silently and his steward stepped in. Cool, calculating eyes stared back at Ian. Most men were intimidated by that look. It was one of the many reasons why Ian had the old man around. Argenal was his name.
“My lord,” stated the old man calmly. “Jyro-Arusi is going to make it. Wherever did you find a man like that? His tools did not go unnoticed by my helpers. They are all loyal, I assure you, but I cannot guarantee that rumors will not spread.”
“That’s all fine and well,” responded the Lord of Nomen. “How are the people?”
Steward Argenal only shook his head. “They are all quite frightened and awestruck. The men are awestruck, mind you. It’s mostly the women who fear the grandeur of this place. They believe only ill can befall them as long as they are here.”
“Have you done whatever you can to make sure they get comfortable?” asked Ian. He reached down and folded his letter.
“Of course, my lord,” replied Steward Argenal. “They have all been settled in. I put them all in our palace suites. I have ordered food, drink, and new clothes to be brought to them at once.”
“Good.” Ian stood up. “Make sure you bring them whatever belongings you can retrieve from the ruined building.”
“Yes, of course,” continued the Steward. “I’ll put everything in a large room. Those things of great value the families will be greatly relieved to have them back. Considering what has just happened, I’m sure no one will be up to stealing at the moment.”
“Make sure you put extra care on the children,” commanded Ian.
“Certainly,” responded Steward Argenal. “I have already sent my people to bring toys and dolls for the little ones.”
“Great, then everything is being taken cared of.” Ian ran a hand through his drying hair. “I take it you have already warned the men about the rain?”
“Yes, they all sit in their towers sheltered from the rain. They keep their vigilant eyes on the roads of Nomen, fearful of what might roam in them. I haven’t heard of raindogs in many years, Ian.”
Ian looked at the older man. “I know, Argenal. I know.”
“Then it can be assumed that Palance is in grave danger.” Steward Argenal walked over to a large window on the eastern wall of the room. “What is it that comes our way? Is the end near for us all?”
Ian shook his head. “I hope not. I will admit things are getting worse.”
“Worse, indeed,” agreed Argenal absently. He continued to look at the window into the pouring rain. “Let us pray dremions don’t come into the city.”
That sent a chill down Ian’s back. “Don’t say such things. That hasn’t happened since before the Conquest.”
“Did you know, my lord, that dremions are the reason why such atrocities happened before the Conquest?” Steward Argenal turned from the window. “Kings would murder their sons out of fear. It is a fact that many people forget. True, many rulers were mad then. But you would be, too, if you had to worry if your son or wife or common soldier was a daemon of light. Daemon is the original, ancient word for dremion. Did you know that?”
“Yes, I did,” answered Ian. He was surprised the old man knew so much.
“Most believe the two words are different things. They are not.”
“What other rare fact do you know, Argenal?” Ian looked at the man imploringly. Maybe the old geezer would mention something about his weapon or something relating to it.
“Oh, many things, my lord.” Steward Argenal walked over to Ian’s large oak table. “Many things. Father Rayul was gracious enough to let me read the Elsen Moran when I was so much younger. I wasn’t a bag of dried up skin and loose bones. It was during a time when I still thought I had a chance to be ruler of Nomen.”
The old steward laughed a little, chuckling at the ironies life had thrown at him. Ian felt for the man. They had made him, a young upstart and the prince of Acrene Tarrynth’s best friend, the Lord of Nomen.
He could still remember the day when they had proclaimed him the Lord of Nomen. The people had come to see the coronation in droves. They had crowded the roads and alleyways with their goods and produce. Men, women, and children had come in their finest to see one of them become something better.
A parade had been made for him along with cavalry, foot soldiers, and armed guards. Escorts in colors of gold, red, black, and green had passed through the city parading their banners of allegiance. Palance’s Iinnin Lodar had come, as well. His best friend paused in front of him and paid homage. Palance had beamed with pride for him.
It wasn’t until after all the ceremonies, and all the banquets, and small parties that he met the man he had taken the position from. The newly crowned Steward Argenal had accepted his new position graciously, if not a little strained. The middle aged man had sworn to serve Ian loyally in the back of a dark room as the moon spilled its light through the two balcony doors.
“I thank you for your service, Argenal,” said Ian.
Steward Argenal regarded him for a moment. “No need to thank me, young man. I never thought you would have allowed me to be your steward so many years ago. You surprised me when you agreed.”
“How could I not allow you to serve me?” asked Ian with a chuckle.
Steward Argenal laughed a little, too. “I remember when they announced you were going to be the next Lord of Nomen. I thought I would die that day. I had worked so hard to get the recognition of the people. I wanted to throttle you. But I didn’t. And here we are. Many years of service to you have shown me what I couldn’t see then.”
“And what’s that?” asked Ian, glad that he was taking the time to speak to the shrewd old man.
“Many things, my lord,” replied the steward. “For one, that you are very wise for one so young. Second, that I never would have been a great leader. My nonexistent humility would have ruled me. My ego died the day my dreams died of ever being the ruler of Nomen.
“I might not have ever ruled,” continued the old man, “but I have guided you as best as I could my own child.”
Ian nodded at that. He remembered fighting with the old man many times. His way was more clear-cut. Steward Argenal’s mind always planned for long-term results while Ian worked for immediacy. Combined, both had learned to rule Nomen as no one had ever seen before. In turn, the people loved him, the city was safe, and the Sun Cathedral prospered.
“My lord?” came the steward’s question.
Ian came out of his thoughts. “I wish the people loved you as much as they do me.”
“They do, my lord. They do. They just don’t know it, yet. Rulership must have a figurehead. You are that figure. But it doesn’t mean the rest of us go unappreciated.”
Ian felt light in the head. “You are so wise.”
“Only as wise as my age, my lord,” came the humble reply.
Ian laughed out loud. “You are cold, calculating, and shrewd. Now I know why so many fear you. They fear you more than me.”
Steward Argenal laughed with him at that.
“My lord?” came the steward’s question after they had finished laughing. “I know there is danger about. I can feel it. The Wreathleak has been active again. That sign alone does not bode well. Clavar Rakensoft has been murdered, and our prince is missing. Now you tell me that you suspect raindogs were out in the streets of Nomen. What do you mean to do?”
Ian shook his head gravely. “I don’t know, Argenal. Tomorrow is Clavar’s funeral. It happens at dawn.”
Steward Argenal thought for a moment. “Tell me this supernatural fight of theirs, again. Explain to me, word for word, how Father Rayul described everything that happened.”
“Why?” asked Ian, his brow creasing with curiosity.
“Something about the shade,” replied Steward Argenal. “It doesn’t make sense. The Wreathleak controls its ghosts. That’s a known fact. They only do the things they do for one purpose, to survive and to create more ghosts and undead beings. It says in the Elsen Moran that the Wreathleak controls whatever lies beyond life.
“This thing that killed Clavar Rakensoft is different. It has to be. This thing acted of its own accord. It was after one thing. A different thing other than to kill and make more servants for the Wreathleak.”
Ian came up in his seat. “You’re right.”
Steward Argenal snapped his fingers. “This thing was after the girl. Presumably, Andina Lerouse.”
“It has to be,” added Ian. He could see where the old man was going with this. “Maybe this thing was waiting for her and Palance. It was surprised when Clavar and Father Rayul discovered it.”
“Right,” agreed Steward Argenal. “But how did it know that was to be their room?”
Ian thought for a moment. His mind was racing with many possibilities. “The Rune Man? It’s obvious he could See into the future. Or at least what we suspect to be futures.”
“Exactly,” Steward Argenal moved away from the Lord of Nomen. He put his hand to his graying hair. When he turned around, he had a faraway look. Ian knew the man was putting facts together, simple deduction of facts and events. It was the old man’s best weapon.
“Wait a minute,” interrupted Ian into the silence. “Do you think the attack on Palance by the nomel dracs when he first arrived was staged? A sort of ambush?”
That brought the Steward back to the room. “That’s what I’m thinking.”
“But that’s impossible!” exclaimed Ian. “No one has the power to foresee events that well. Who in their right mind would ally themselves with the Wreathleak and a crazy Rune Man?”
Steward Argenal nodded wearily. “That’s not our only concern, my lord. Dark times are ahead of us. There is a force out there capable of bringing raindogs back from the pages of the Elsen Moran. It talks to the Wreathleak and makes deals with a most dangerous foe.
“I remember now what it is that I’ve read. What killed Clavar Rakensoft was a Sentinel, a long-dead knight of the Wreathleak. In times before the Conquest, there were a group of a hundred knights that were honorable and just. They charged across any landscape to help the weak and oppressed. They single-handedly fought and began to eliminate all dremions from the lands of our world.
“But the dremions decided to fight back. And with one masterful stroke they got their revenge. One by one the knights were overcome by the dremions. Each dremion drove each knight to do acts of unspeakable evil. Where they used to help the weak and poor, they would now slaughter and destroy villages.”
Ian found himself fascinated by the story. He had heard of Sentinels, but he had never really heard where they came from.
Steward Argenal continued to speak. “Except each dremion found itself in a worse situation. You see, these knights were some of the greatest men to ever walk among the Nations. Their power and righteousness allowed them to trap the dremion within. Unable to escape themselves, they in turn did not allow these daemons of light to flee.
“And so they continued to struggle against the forces of evil that they had within themselves. Until each knight was caught and killed by the very people they had struggled to protect. But that was not the only thing. When each knight died, the Wreathleak moved in to take over his soul.
“It made for a very interesting situation. The soul of each knight had been fused with the soul of the dremion. It allowed the dremion to have its own free will beyond the Wreathleak’s control because it still had the righteousness of the knight. To this day, if a person succeeds with a certain ritual and survives the backlash of energy, that person can have a Sentinel do his or her bidding for a shirt period of time beyond the Wreathleak’s control.”
Ian felt chills ripple throughout his body. Palance was in mortal danger. Everything the Rune Man said was probably true. He looked down at his dagger. Did he hold something from ancient times?
“We have to tell Father Rayul,” he said. “As soon as the rain lets up.”
The rain outside seemed to hear, and lightning flashed in the eyes of the steward and thunder shook the castle.
“I believe so,” was all Steward Argenal said, if a little to humbly. “Now all we have to do is wait for the rain to stop.”
Ian stared out the window and the rain that was caging them in their home. “If it ever does,” was all he could bring himself to say.
To be continued...
Copyright © 2005 by Julian Lawler
