Cathedral: Into the Light

By R.E. Metzel

This is a story of faith and redemption. Tavius, a young hunter turned warrior, inspires hope to a nation on the brink of war. Meanwhile, Luzalo, born into darkness and tragedy, begins her long journey to redemption. As their paths collide, an adventure unfolds that sheds light on the power of Gods love for those who earnestly seek Him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Aug 26, 2013
• ISBN: 9781491809877

R.E. Metzel

Rachel Metzel’s flair for rich description and engaging storytelling has been a lifelong passion. Growing up in a military family, Rachel spent most of her childhood moving across the nation, while entertaining her two younger brothers with Tolkien-like stories of intrigue and adventure. Her God-given skills as a writer and artist continue to bless those who come in contact with her inspirational work. She is currently studying English at Letourneau University in Northeast Texas.

Book preview

CATHEDRAL

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Into the light

R.E.METZEL

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AuthorHouse™

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.authorhouse.com

Phone: [phone]

©

2013, 2015 by R.E.Metzel. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 01/09/2015

ISBN: 978-1-4918-0989-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-0988-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-0987-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013914696

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Twenty-Two

Twenty-Three

Twenty-Four

Twenty-Five

Twenty-Six

Twenty-Seven

Twenty-Eight

Twenty-Nine

Thirty

Thirty-One

Thirty-Two

Thirty-Three

Thirty-Four

Thirty-Five

Thirty-Six

Thirty-Seven

Thirty-Eight

Thirty-Nine

Forty

Forty-One

Forty-Two

Forty-Three

Forty-Four

Forty-Five

Forty-Six

Notes

If I thanked everyone who worked with me on this project, I would have a whole new novel on my hands. When I began writing, I lived in fear opinions. I have since learned otherwise. Thank you to my mother, who showed interest in my stories and risked trouble by sneaking onto my computer to read them when I would not share. Thanks to my father, whose relentless effort put this novel together. To my brothers: Silas, you taught me to think beyond the box and Matthew, you kept me in it. Who knows what this book would be like without you two to keep me in check? Thank you to my grandfather, who had the kindness to like my book, and to my grandmother, who had the courage to say she did not. I am honored to have all these people, and many more, involved in this publication.

And to you, dear reader, I owe a special appreciation because you took your precious time and placed it in my hands. I am afraid I have misused your trust. This book began for my entertainment and I had no intention of ever publishing it. It has changed dramatically from its original source material in an attempt to appease the masses, but I fear it falls short of this goal. May it simply bring glory to God in you and in the remnant.

Sincerely,

R.E.Metzel

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One

How deserted lies the city, once so full of people. How like a widow is she, who once was great among the nations. She who was queen among the provinces has now become a slave.

—Lamentations 1:1

THE AIR FELT DIFFERENT in Lach Highland that night; far too cold for summer, with a dry wind coursing from the south. Not a cloud in the sky remained to break the perfect chaos of the stars. Everything looked sharp in the blue light. The way looked clear for miles as if the sun had risen. The night creatures sensed strangeness in the hour and shrieked their warnings to a deaf world.

The only city in the land, the fortress of Great Hall, sat in darkness under the shadow of a hill. Most slept fitfully through the odd weather except the guards on the wall tops and Cirrus, the young Lord of Lach Highland. He sat alone in his courtroom, surrounded by walls covered in tapestries and the trails of his own thoughts. His head was bowed, his shoulders bent, and his pale hands clasped each other until the knuckles turned white. A scowl twisted his mouth in a deep frown as his empty stare fixed on a knotted sword at his feet. His eyes ran over the rusted blade; a relic left behind as a taunt from the enemy.

He tried to purge it from his mind and bury the sight behind his eyelids, but the weapon burned in his memory. It mocked him and recalled his failure. Cirrus wanted to get rid of the sights. He wanted no more memories of that horrible day.

In a blurred movement, he snatched the sword and hurled it across the room. It struck an oak door and clanged to the floor. He stood on the dais, jaw clenched, veins rising. He wanted to scream, but held back. He wanted to cry, but pride would not let him.

The fury passed. Cirrus tried to sit, missed his chair, and hit the ground. He grasped his head and rocked against the conflicts inside him.

The door opened. He heard it but refused to look.

Cirrus? Mira, his wife, stood quietly behind the entrance. Her black hair fell around her shoulders in distressed knots. Darkness rimmed her tired eyes, the result of the sleepless nights they suffered. She closed the door and went to him, Are you all right?

He’s gone, Cirrus felt his voice crack. Mira said nothing. She lowered her head. Her hair fell away and revealed the sharp ears of her race; a lake woman. Cirrus took one look at her face and regretted ever meeting her. If he had not dragged her from her home, she would not have to endure this. He was the reason she suffered.

He stumbled to his feet, We’ll go out again tomorrow. We’ll try to find the trail. Maybe we can track them.

She didn’t respond but he saw the doubt in her face. She had no willpower to say what was on her mind. He started to feel the rage again, We’ll find him.

She still said nothing. Her silence was worse than if she had spoken. It made him mad, Say something!

Mira’s eyes were pleading, Cirrus, you know it too.

Cirrus did know it, but he refused to accept it, I won’t leave Airan in the hands of those monsters!

If we wait for your brother-

Hang my brother! he roared, It takes him weeks for his court to decide anything!

He won’t hesitate-

He follows rules, Mira! He won’t come! The guilt, the rage, and the helpless anxiety took their toll. He swung at the wall, took the skin off his knuckles, punched it again, and wilted. He slid and sat on the floor, burying his face in his hands and holding back the screams.

Mira’s voice shivered for control, Airan is safe. I know the Emperor will watch over him. I trust everything will be all right.

Cirrus felt too emotionally spent to either accept or reject her words. He just let the feelings pass and tried to keep breathing. He had to keep breathing. The blood from his raw knuckles touched his cheek. He wiped it away in disgust.

A heavy knock sounded on the door. Cirrus regained his feet, Enter!

The door swung open. Foru Longstor, steward of the Hall, shoved past it. He looked frightened. Sweat plastered the thick hair on his head. He took a breathless gulp to steady himself, Cirrus, come quickly. Outside. You have to hear.

What’s wrong? Mira was already halfway to the door.

Foru shook his head, We don’t know.

Cirrus grabbed his sword from behind his chair and strapped it around his waist, Show us.

They hurried through the fortress of Great Hall to the outer courtyard. Foru took them up the stairs to the top of the inner wall and stopped, facing the city and the world beyond it. The numbing chill caught them by surprise. Cirrus and Mira shivered beside the nervous steward, straining their ears for a sound.

Nothing.

Cirrus spoke up, I don’t hear anything.

Foru wiped his face, Exactly, sir. Not a sound. There were all kinds of night noises moments ago. Now they’ve stopped. Something’s out there.

A desolate wail lifted its voice from beyond the city limits. They froze and stared out at the forests even as darkness took over the world. Shrill howls joined the initial voice; clear and ringing. They were close.

Cirrus bristled, Roth Mordans. They’re back.

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Foru burst into the fortress barracks, Battle stations! We’re under attack! Cover the perimeter and get the people inside the Hall! Move!

The men scrambled to pull on their armor and the stables thundered with the stamping hooves of the cavalry horses. The gates of the Hall’s inner wall opened and soldiers poured out to guide the villagers.

Cirrus’ mind turned as the rest of the world moved in a blur. He watched the frightened faces of the women, children, and elders as they ran to the Hall for protection. He spoke quietly to his wife, Get Fairlight and the villagers to the tunnels.

Mira ran back to the fortress, shouting out, With me! Hurry to the caverns!

Cirrus watched the people rush past. Their mouths were open in panicked cries, but the sound did not register in his ears. He only heard the jeers of the enemy beyond his city.

Sharven Medilius, his cavalry captain, appeared at his side, The last of the villagers are coming, Lord Cirrus.

Cirrus drew his sword, Bar the gates behind them. Use anything you can to support the entrance. We can’t let those devils through.

Sharven called an order to his men and they scattered for supplies. The last of the citizens passed into the fortress and the gates slammed shut behind them.

Cirrus shouted to the battlements, Commander Rorris, the enemy cannot pass this wall!

The commander saluted and pulled his archers in tight formation around the ramparts.

Cirrus grew distant. A sad smile breached his mouth, We’re not coming out of this. Not alive.

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The men grew uneasy as they waited. Cirrus sat on a charger beside Sharven, the two leaders watching the gate. The horses tossed their heads and tapped their feet on the pavement. Smoke rose from their heated bodies.

They listened to the gut-wrenching howls from the throats of the enemy outside. Soldiers whispered prayers for strength. Their slick hands clung to their weapons for comfort.

Rorris, the commander of the archers, leapt down the stairs of the gatehouse and stopped before Cirrus, Sir, the enemy is past the city limits. They’re setting the place on fire.

As if on cue, fire erupted from outside the wall. Croaking cheers followed the noise in excited bloodlust.

Cirrus’s frown twisted, How far up are they?

A crackling roar made them all jump and the horses reared in fear. A flaming stone soared overhead and cracked against the Hall, settling at its top. The wooden beams burst into flame.

Fire! cried a dozen voices.

Stop! Cirrus shouted before they moved, It’s a distraction! Stay at your posts!

He faced the fortress gates, Archers, take aim; fire!

Rorris whistled and the arrows flew.

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Mira led the people to the lower levels of the Hall with controlled speed. She searched for the statue that marked the underground tunnels. Her fingers brushed along the cold stone, feeling their way through the dim passages. The shadowed figure of an angelic Sherubim appeared before them in the dark. She sprinted to it. She pushed the statue and slid it along the floor. A part of the wall moved with it and a gaping hole opened into the earth. Mira motioned the people inside, Stay close together!

The frightened faces of her people passed. Terrified eyes searched the darkness for a source of hope. Many of them looked to the Sherubim as if it would come to life and protect them.

Mira reached out and pulled Foru’s wife out of the crowd, Guide them through the tunnels, Yael. Wait for me at the cavern.

The young woman’s terrified eyes glanced at Mira, Where are you going?

Fairlight! Mira shouted as she sprinted back down the hall.

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Arrows shot from both sides. Screams knifed the air. Chaos erupted around the fortress walls. A thundering boom echoed over the sounds of battle as a great force beat the gates. The impact rolled like thunder as the battering ram twisted metal and cracked wood.

Sharven lifted his sword, Stand ready!

The cavalry behind him lifted their weapons and roared defiantly. The shrill howls of the enemy matched their pitch.

A mind-blowing snap silenced it all as the gates gave way. Cirrus lost all sense of the battle. He could only hear the thudding of his frightened heart. The soldiers moved slowly. Splinters of wood and shards of metal floated past. Sharven’s cry rang in his head, For the Emperor and the coming Kingdom! Charge!

The world snapped back to life. The horses of Great Hall bolted across the courtyard. A wall of stamping beasts charged the exposed gates. Wild manes tossed in the wind, heads bobbed and eyes blazed for the fight.

They faltered. The enemy had their match; wulves. Scores of creatures the size of stallions crashed through the gate and rammed through the wall of horses. The fight became a confusion of hooves, claws, teeth and fur.

Rorris split his archers in two groups, trying to cover the outside walls and the inner courtyard. The invaders joined the wulves: dark, skulking creatures with jagged armor and evil faces. Roth Mordans. They leapt into the fray, howling battle cries and swinging blades. Swords flashed and cut into flesh. Arrows whistled into targets. Fists thudded against armor and cracked bones. Every chest throbbed with the heat of the fight.

Foru drove his blade into a creature, yanking back as his enemy fell to the earth. A gasp rushed from the steward’s lungs as his sword came free. A movement caught his eye. He saw a shadow scaling up the fortress walls, breaking windows and peering in. They had taken one child. Now they had come for the other. He darted back into the Hall. He would not let them succeed.

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The hallway to Fairlight’s room glowed with fire from the battle outside. Mira hated herself for not coming here first. She had not thought the danger was this close. A million better plans flashed through her mind as she ran for her daughter’s room and a hundred regrets thundered in her chest. She found the door and tried it.

Locked.

Why? Mira gasped. She never locked this door. She wildly searched the walls and grabbed a candleholder. She pounded the knob with it, the clang of metal ringing through her skin. Tears poured out of her eyes and she attacked the door. Fracturing wood announced her victory. The lock broke free. She shoved the door open and burst inside. Fairlight’s crib was by the window. The fire had not reached her room. Trembling, Mira wrapped the infant in a thick blanket to protect her.

I’m so sorry, little one, she gasped, I’m so sorry.

A croaking shriek blasted in her ears. She felt spit hit the back of her neck. Spinning around, she stared into the scaly face of a Roth Mordan. The creature glared at her in shock. Its eyes clouded over and it fell to the floor in a heap. A knife tumbled from its hand. The sharp edge of a sword showed itself, running through the creature from behind.

Foru pulled the weapon from the creature’s body and grabbed Mira’s arm, The enemy’s broken through! Get out of here!

Breaking glass drowned him out. The steward yanked Mira and her daughter to the floor. A flaming arrow shot through the glass of the bedroom window and buried its head in the wall. Flames licked the curtains and they burst aglow.

Foru pulled Mira to her feet and hurried her into the hall.

The building shook. The rock of a catapult ripped through the ceiling. The crushing weight of a roof beam hit Foru in the head. He fell on all fours, dazed. Mira jumped back, Foru!

Fairlight’s wails rang in terror. Foru worked out of the beams and stumbled to his feet. He fell against a table. He could feel the wound in his head.

A wall of fire and stone stood between him and his lord’s family. He tried to focus through dazed eyes, Get out of here.

Mira held Fairlight close and she stared at him through the hot flames.

Get out!

She turned and ran. Foru gathered himself together and staggered the opposite way.

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The gates shuddered. The walls cracked under tremendous pressure. Huge stones fell from their place. An enormous head appeared through the gap, large and lizard-like, with a mouthful of razor teeth.

Tierrano! voices screamed.

No one had seen it come. Soldiers ran from the sight. The beast shoved through the gateway, wriggling through the opening.

Commander Rorris pulled back his bow and fired. The dart struck the tierrano in the neck. It roared in pain and reared back on two powerful hind legs. Its long tail lashed out, catching wulves and soldiers by surprise. Rorris shot again, hitting it above the eye. It went into a mad rampage.

Look out!

Men darted left and right. The creature struck soldiers on both sides.

Someone take it down! Cirrus ordered above the madness.

Rorris ran along the wall, bow loaded. The creature’s head came at him. He rolled away, barely escaping the snapping jaws. He hit an enemy and almost tripped over the edge. The tierrano clawed the battlements, pulling out rocks and striking anything in its path.

Rorris tried to steady his feet, drew back his arrow and aimed for the eye. The barb flew straight and true. The roar of pain from the beast announced his triumph and the tierrano stumbled against the wall before crashing to earth.

A hot breath hit Rorris on the back of his neck. He swept out an arrow and spun, stabbing the enemy in its mouth and shoving it over the battlements. Gravity took over. He found his knife and caught a Roth Mordan in the arm. One push sent it sailing over the edge. He loaded his bow and struck a third invader.

A blurred shadow appeared to his right. He saw a battle-axe flash toward him. He jumped back, dodged the first swing, leapt over the second, but failed to clear the third. The axe cut his side. A blast of pain ripped through his body. He felt his mind go cold. He lashed out with his blade and somehow the monster fell. He sank to the ground, clutching his wound.

One of his archers caught him, Commander!

Rorris gasped in agony, fighting the pain. A clawed hand wrenched away the archer. Something picked Rorris up. He struck out with no effect. A Roth Mordan threw him over its shoulder and he yelled at the shock of ragged metal against his ribs. Others grabbed him, howling with laughter. They carried him to the edge of the wall and prepared him for the thirty-foot plunge. He felt the air receive him. His limbs thrashed out, catching anything in range.

Three came with him.

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Cirrus felt his energy leave him. It hurt to lift his sword. His movements became sluggish and weak. He saw his friends fall on every side. His mind wondered if his wife made it out safely. Did she reach the tunnels in time? How could the Emperor ever forgive him?

A Roth Mordan charged him. He flinched. His sword went out instinctively. Somehow, he caught the creature with the blade. Cirrus shifted under the new weight and struggled to get his weapon free.

Someone grabbed him from behind. He had no power to fight back. All strength left him.

The sword struck. He had been injured before, but not this way. This pain felt fatal. The world blurred. He collapsed to the ground on his knees, fighting for life, wanting to breathe and unable to hold on.

The enemy screamed in victory.

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The tunnel door lay shattered in a on the ground. The Sherubim statue rested among the debris, its head nowhere in sight. An empty howl of air passed over the blackness of the tunnel entrance.

Mira’s feet skid to a halt. Her fingers clutched her squirming daughter. Fairlight’s terrified cries echoed from the walls at every side, trailed by a void of haunting quiet. Mira’s exhaustion kept her from comforting the child in her arms.

Something gargled, Your son squalled too.

Shock froze Mira’s limbs at the threatening voice. Her eyes slowly roved the darkness, but the speaker towered behind her. A chill drew her skin taught. Heavy boots slid over the floor and stopped less than a foot from where she stood. The cold tip of a sword touched the back of her neck. Mira felt her eyes blur. A line of hot water slid down her face and landed on Fairlight’s outstretched fist.

They said Great Hall could not fall. Cirrus just surrendered to Geteye. He begged for his life. He sobbed like your son. Must run in the family.

The speaker’s boots thudded on the earth from behind, moving until they stood at her side. She caught a glimpse of a grisly face and red, shining teeth. A cruel smile curled the dry lips.

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Mira swung her arm and knocked the blade away. Her elbow cracked against its nose and she took off down the hall. Talons yanked her by her hair. She hit the ground. Air rushed from her lungs. A heavy boot clamped just below her neck. Fairlight wailed. The creature snatched her from Mira’s arms. The blanket fell to the floor, revealing the child’s red, angry face. A colorless mark cut through the healthy skin by the infant’s right eye, shaped like a crescent.

The enemy’s red teeth reappeared and it ran a long talon over the mark, So we finally meet. Hello little one, I’m your Uncle Scur.

Mira struggled against his hold, Leave her alone!

The unfeeling eyes looked down on her, I’ll make sure she’s taken care of.

He pulled back his sword. Mira closed her eyes and waited for the end.

Two

Look, O Lord, on my affliction, for the enemy has triumphed.—Lamentations 1:9

THE LIGHT OF THE morning sun beamed courageously against the gates of Cathedral. The shadows retreated into small recesses and waited for night.

Lord Remmus walked along the length of the city’s marble wall and filled his lungs with air. The battlements gave him a magnificent view of the land he governed. Cobbled streets and stone buildings gathered in a giant neighborhood within the walls. The markets were open and crowded with people as traders poured in from almost every corner of the map. At the center of Cathedral stood Remmus’ home; the Court. He had grown up in that place. Thirty-five years he explored its halls and six of those he ruled from it. The structure towered on a natural rise where it could be seen from anywhere in the city; a great castle in a sea of homes.

Sir? a firm broke his thoughts. Remmus glanced at the speaker, a mouse named Canya who worked as an infirmary nurse. Her narrow face carried a deep frown and knobbed fingers pushed a set of thick glasses up her snout. She cleared his throat to command his full attention, Lord Remmus, the council sent me for you.

Remmus looked surprised, What for?

It was a last minute arrangement. Lady Goldsten has urgent news from the border.

What about?

She didn’t tell me. You’d better hurry, they’ve been gathered for a long time.

Remmus moved past Canya and sprinted down the steps, Something horrible must have happened. Hurry, Canya!

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The six courtiers and their apprentices waited for Remmus to arrive at the meeting hall. Twelve faces drew tight with unease as they stood together, talking in hushed voices. Restless eyes moved along the walls, hoping to find something neutral to stare at instead of the anxious faces around them.

Goldsten, governess of the river people who lived along the Rorrim, had called the meeting unexpectedly. She seemed the most agitated of the group, Remmus hasn’t heard?

Noraa, a badger chieftess, shook her muzzle, The attack of Lach Highland hasn’t reached this far north. I didn’t know until you told me.

How do we break it to him? asked Genan, leader of the province of Tierzah.

Just tell him straight out, said an apprentice.

It will hit him hard, Goldsten’s voice was soft and pained.

The doors of the throne room opened. The courtiers and their students froze. The air turned stale in their lungs. Remmus hurried into the room.

What’s happened? asked Remmus, feeling the unease in the room the moment he arrived, Goldsten, you have bad news.

The river woman’s pale face lost all its color and her pointed ears fell. She spoke softly, Sir, I wish I-

Her voice choked. She cleared her throat, but words refused to come. Her apprentice, Emrathel, pulled a chair out for her and spoke in her place, Almost four days ago, the forces of the Black Prince, led by the warlords Geteye and Scur, attacked Great Hall. They fought hard…the Lach Highlanders, that is, but the siege only lasted an hour. The city fell. None escaped.

They saw the color drain from Remmus’ face. He moved, almost staggered, to the meeting table and grasped its edge. His knuckles grew bloodless. He stared at the tree, Cathedral’s symbol of hope, carved into the stone surface of the tabletop.

I’m sorry it took so long for the report, Emrathel went on, The forests aren’t safe. Our scouts had trouble crossing the border.

Complete silence fell over the room. No one dared to look at Remmus.

The Lord of Cathedral stood clinging to the table for what felt like an eternity. Emrathel’s brief report turned over in his mind. He reached out for a chair and sank onto it. His mouth opened and a sound emerged that resembled something between a cry and a choke. He felt the pain. He did not know how to release it.

Goldsten looked up at him through her black hair, I’m so sorry, Remmus.

No, it’s not your fault… Remmus shuddered. His trembling hands raked through his dark hair, You say no one…any escaped.

No sir, Emrathel muttered in answer, Our reports indicate all were captured or killed.

My brother, s-Cirrus…his family?

The air in Remmus’ lungs deserted him as the river apprentice shook his head, Lord Cirrus died in battle. Lady Mira was captured and murdered. Their son had been kidnapped days before the attack and our scouts lost him in the desert. The daughter is most likely with her parents. In the arms of the Emperor.

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A cold brush of air swirled through the open window. Remmus sat stiffly on his bed in front of it, staring out at nothing in particular. He blinked. Red rimmed his eyes. They felt dry from a sleepless night. Nothing looked clear. Nothing but the sky. Clouds smothered the city, grey as charcoal.

The air felt heavy in his lungs. He could feel depression creeping in.

It’s darker today, Tala, he said to the sky, It’s been dark for days, like the sky knows what happened.

His hand went to the pocket in his robe and he pulled out a small locket. He rubbed the wooden surface and turned it in his hands. At its center, a small image of Cathedral’s emblem, the Emerald Tree, gleamed against the bark. It belonged to a pair. One locket he gave to his wife the year before she disappeared. Remmus closed his eyes, It’s quieter too. Lots of people had friends and relatives in Lach Highland…like us.

He shook his head, Our soldiers failed. We tried to retaliate and lost our men. Almost an entire battalion, wiped out in a week. We just don’t have the power or the skill. So we sit and do nothing.

The curtains moved against the wall. Remmus tightened his grip on the locket, I sent letters to our allies. I already know what they’ll say. Avontaar’s pacifist, Telfaet’s fighting a civil war, and Landir could care less about us. This is our fight…and my friends won’t take it up.

Remmus clamped his jaw closed as a timid knock tapped the door. Stuffing the locket in his robe, he called out, Enter!

The door behind him opened slowly and Noraa walked into the room. Her youngest cub and apprentice, Kedar, trailed quietly behind her. The badger lady dipped her head to Remmus, We came to tell you the memorial ceremony for Lach Highland will start soon. We’re gathering in the courtyard.

Remmus stood, Thank you, Noraa.

I’ll send someone to escort you.

I’ll be fine, he said, I’ll follow you in a moment.

She watched him, muzzle tipped and eyes gleaming quietly. She finally relented and left. Kedar stayed behind, shuffling nervously on the floor.

What is it, young cub? Remmus asked, kneeling so he was almost face to face with the small badger.

Kedar cleared his throat, Mister Remmus, sir…I just wanted to say I’m sorry ‘bout your brother…sir. I’d want to help, I mean, if I were in your place. I would fight too, no matter what the council says, and I’ll fight with you if you go.

Remmus smiled and rubbed him between the ears, Thank you great warrior. You’ll be the first I call.

Kedar’s little chest puffed out and he gave a shy smile before running out after his mother. Remmus chuckled, He’s a good cub, Tala. A strong one too. He’ll be a great chieftain someday.

A church bell rang in the distance, tolling nine times. He took one last glance outside the window and turned to leave the room.

Three

"Be gracious to me, God, for man tramples me; he fights and oppresses me all day long. My adversaries trample me all day, for many arrogantly fight against me. When I am afraid,

I will trust in You."—Psalm 56:1-3

FEAR RAGED THROUGH THE countryside as news of Great Hall’s siege spread. Cities established private militias, towns began construction on walls, and guards patrolled the streets at night. In response to the cry for protection, Representative Goldsten enlarged the number of scouts guarding the Thaim where the Rorrim River and the lake met. They carried orders to detain any outsider going into Narshadar. Patrols along the borderline increased and the number of outposts along the river doubled.

Odnaldro, a Water Rider with ten years of experience under his belt, shook his head at the thought. Even with strengthened security, eight-mile gaps remained between each outpost. The added numbers of inexperienced lookouts only succeeded in scrambling the schedules of the original scouts. Odnaldro’s daily check-ins had changed four times in the past fortnight because of the sudden increase in