David Dalglish - Clash of Faiths

Valessa felt her anger grow, at both the lord and the prophet.

“We are not assassins to be directed as you wish,” Claire seethed.

“I understand. I am simply suggesting a wise use of your time while I wait for new orders. Now, should you perform this duty, and return without me having heard word from the Stronghold…”

He let his voice trail off as he took a drink of wine. The sisters exchanged another glance. Valessa could tell Claire wasn’t happy about this, but short of executing Sebastian, there weren’t too many options currently available to them.

“I knew we should have come unnoticed,” Claire whispered.

“Who is your target, the one that is such an affront to Karak?” Valessa asked.

Sebastian downed the rest of the glass, licked his lips, and set it aside.

“My older brother, Arthur. He lives in his castle, quite the recluse. But those of his retinue spread word of how the worship of Karak in our lands is unlawful, our enforcements unfair, and the tithes the people pay unjust. His castle is small, but well-guarded, and could withstand a siege for at least a year. The Castle of Caves, they call it. But you two ladies…”

“I know where the castle is,” Claire said. “Now give us your word that when we return, Darius will be ours to deal with as we desire.”

“If no orders have been delivered to me stating otherwise.”

Claire’s smile was rigid as stone.

“Of course.”

“Wait,” Valessa said before they could be excused. “I wish to see Darius first, with my own eyes.”

Sebastian frowned. “Lady, I can assure you that he is in our custody, and properly taken care of.”

She shook her head.

“My own eyes, Sebastian. That is my demand, and I will not relent.”

The lord glanced at Gregane, who nodded.

“Very well,” Sebastian said, standing. “Follow me, but you must come alone. Gregane will have his eye on you at all times. No tricks. Any attempt made on Darius’s life will be treated as an attempt on my own.”

Both of which you could never stop, Valessa thought, but instead she smiled and followed him past his throne and into the dungeon below. It was dark, damp, and smelled of blood and piss. She caught the jailor hiding in the corner, as if frightened to be seen in the presence of his lord. Valessa gave him little thought, for her attention was reserved for the man chained to the wall.

“Darius?” she asked, approaching the bars.

“Careful,” Gregane said, his sword drawn. “He is a dangerous man, after all.”

Valessa knew that wasn’t why he kept his blade at ready, but pretended otherwise. She tilted her head, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dim light. The bound man didn’t seem like a paladin of Karak. He looked pale, tired, with his eyes sunken into his face. He was half-naked, wearing only torn underclothes. In the light of day he might have been handsome, but down there, he looked deserving of only pity.

But she had no pity for a betrayer.

“My, my,” Darius said, laughing. “They sent a gray sister after me? Am I that great a threat to Karak, that I must die in secret?”

“You revealed your lack of faith before a crowd of thousands,” Valessa said. “While in full armor no less, still bearing the crest of the Lion. For that alone you should die.”

“Perhaps. I thought killing Nevek and Lars was the greater crime, but what do I know?”

“There, you have seen him,” Sebastian said, clearly impatient. “May we return to more pleasing environs?”

“Are you not here to kill me?” Darius asked. He laughed again. “Such a shame. What happened, sister? Have you lost your courage?”

Her hand reached for the dagger at her side, but Gregane was there, holding her wrist.

“I wouldn’t do that,” he said.

Valessa glared, debating. She was in the dungeon of a castle, with a hundred soldiers waiting on call. Was it really worth dying over a pathetic, failed paladin?

“Forgive me,” she said, pulling her arm free of his grasp. “I have little patience when in the presence of heretics.”

“Heretic?” For the first time, Darius spoke in anger. “ Heretic? What heresy have I committed? What blasphemy have I spoken against Karak? I worship him still, with all my heart. Consider me lost, gray sister, and consider me a failure, but do not dare presume to understand the nature of my faith.”

Valessa didn’t know what to say, so she stated the most obvious argument against him.

“Then why does Karak not bless you? Why does he deny fire to your blade?”

She stepped closer, and Gregane followed. The light of his torch bathed over Darius, and for the first time she saw his blackened hand and gasped.

“You bear the mark,” she said, her voice nearly a whisper.

“I know.”

“The black hand… that is not given lightly. Save your lies. Nothing you say can disprove the truth of Karak burned into your flesh.”

Darius fell silent, and she waited for an answer. He offered none. Turning, she glared at Sebastian.

“You play dangerous games,” she said, “daring to interfere with the will of Karak. I’ll do as you ask, this one time, only because even in Mordeina we hear of your reputation as a faithful servant. But do not test me, and do not dare betray me.”

“Is that a threat?” Gregane asked, but Sebastian only smiled.

“Of course, milady,” he said. “Now let us return to the light.”

When they reentered the throne room, a knight stood beside Claire, looking angry and impatient.

“Lord Hemman, if I could have a word,” he said, but Sebastian cut him off.

“Show respect, Sir Mark. I have guests not yet dismissed. Speak out of turn again, and I will have your tongue.”

The knight looked flustered but obeyed.

“Would you like to stay here for the night?” Sebastian asked as Valessa joined Claire’s side.

“We should begin our ride,” Claire said. “The Castle of Caves will take us time to reach, even on horseback. Until we meet again.”

Neither bowed as they left.

“Is Darius there and alive?” Claire asked as they exited the outer gate.

“He is.”

“Did you speak with him?”

“I did. He bears the mark of the abandoned, Claire. It covers his entire hand. Never have I seen one so hated by Karak.”

Claire nodded.

“Then it will be good to get this business done, and execute such a faithless traitor.”

Valessa frowned at the word faithless. So strange. She heard the desperate faith in Darius’s voice. No one was as skilled a liar as that, to put on such a performance. She didn’t want to imagine the turmoil that must be within his soul.

“The sooner, the better,” Valessa agreed, wishing to think no more on the matter.

*

“T he women are dangerous,” Gregane said when the gray sisters were gone. “Perhaps it would have been better to hand over the paladin now.”

“Even the faithful are willing to make deals to reach their ends,” Sebastian said, waving dismissively. “I captured Darius, not them, and I will consider this my reward. Arthur’s been a thorn in my side long enough.”

He glanced over to where Sir Mark waited, hands behind his back and his head bowed.

“What is it?” he asked, annoyed.

“The people of Stonahm,” the knight began. “They’ve rebelled against your rule.”

Sebastian poured himself a cup of wine and sipped it. He felt his veins turn to ice as the words sank in.

“How so?” he asked at last.

“I’d come for tithes, but instead of handing them over, one of their men assaulted me when my back was turned. I was beaten, and sent away with orders never to return.”

“You were there for tithes, and just tithes, I assume?”