The Order of the Fallen: The Paladin's Sin, #3

By Jessica Kemery

He longs for freedom, but will his escape cost him everything?

 

Rordan is a disgraced Paladin knight, captured by the Temple and enslaved for his crimes. Left hopeless and homesick, he knows that escaping will be the most dangerous plot he has ever hatched. Unsure of who to trust, he turns to an old friend, who lurks in the shadows.

 

Determined to escape with as many Temple slaves as possible, the plan is set into motion with an unlikely ruse. Their mission is simple: success using every magic trick up their sleeves, or die trying.

 

Can they slip away in the dark, with magic as their only weapon, or will the Inquisitors' ax fall before the new moon comes?

 

Order of the Fallen is the action-packed conclusion to the Paladin's Sin Series, a sword and sorcery fantasy. If you like knights in shining armor, powerful magic, and rooting for the good guys, you will love Jessica Kemery's final book.

 

Read The Order of the Fallen today, and escape into a world of fantasy!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hot Mess Express Publishing
• Release date: Nov 5, 2021
• ISBN: 9798223855880

Jessica Kemery

Called by some a multi-tasking ninja, Jessica Kemery lives in Crystal Lake, Illinois, where she works a day job so that her dog, Rocky, can live a life of pampered luxury. The Hobbit is the first book she read, and she has been searching for dragons ever since. She has two teenagers who firmly believe their mother is slightly unhinged and roll their eyes every time she starts playing the greatest hits of the '80s. She also has a husband who dreams of becoming her business manager one day when she "makes it big." Powered by caffeine and the bare minimum of sleep on a nightly basis, she thinks the world's greatest invention is meal delivery services.

Book preview

MAP

OATH OF THE TEMPLE KNIGHTS

I swear upon this cross that I will take no wife, hold no lands, and serve my God and kingdom faithfully until my end of days.

1

JUST A DAY

Rordan Armond, pendant slave to the Temple, started his day the way he always did, on his knees in prayer.  As he no longer had his tongue his prayers were all internal.

Although he had not spoken in five years, since the Master cut his tongue out, he still heard his own voice in his mind.  Dear Lord, please hear my prayer of lament and hopelessness.  Please hear my prayers in brokenhearted silence.  In this silence, I hear the voices of my ancestors.  I hear the voice of my father.  My resolve and faith do not waiver.  I pray for deliverance, I pray for hope that you will return me to my family.

The sun had not yet arisen when he rose from his knees.  His cell, just large enough to fit a cot and a small table, was still dark.  He hadn’t bothered to light a candle.

He stumbled out to the common room, where the long tables were filling with early risers.

Rordan ladled out his bowl of porridge from the common pot and sat down with a groan next to Demetrius, his fellow pendant and friend.  Every person here knew sign language well. Good morning. Rordan’s fingers moved quickly.

Demetrius was not so awake. Morning, he signed slowly.  Did you hear?  Bernard tried to escape.  They rode him down and the horses’ hooves left him broken. He was beyond healing.

I told him not to leave!  He should have waited. Rordan shook his head sadly.  He had been trying to organize an uprising for five years, but he had to move carefully.  The penalty for trying to escape was severe.

It was hard to eat without a tongue.  Their food tended to be soft: porridge, soups, stew, and heavily boiled vegetables.  You could eat harder foods, but it involved fingers and a lot of work.  Most of them didn’t bother.  Rordan tipped his head back so that his thin porridge would move to the back of his throat.

There were about fifty pendant slaves here, and about one hundred total at the Temple, serving in a variety of roles.  They worked in the laundry, kitchens, cleaning crew, and farms.  Rordan worked in the field, and it was backbreaking work.  He had asked to move to the stables. He was good with horses, but the overseer, a priest named Dorian Flauch, delighted in keeping him in the dirt.  

I’m sorry, Rordan.  The Master has demanded that you remain in the fields to serve your penance, as a punishment for your sins.  Dorian smirked.

The only day they got off was Sunday, and they spent most of that day in the cathedral. Rordan didn’t mind, it was a treat to just sit, think, and do nothing.

The highest position a pendant could hold was as a servant to a Temple priest.  This person served as a personal attendant and aide, sometimes becoming a companion or lover.  

Zach Demilo was Rordan’s former friend and a Temple priest. He had come many times to the barracks to seek Rordan out. Become my pendant, Rordan.

He had once thought of Zach as a brother.  They had grown up together, studying at the Temple. Together, had trained, lived, played, and later served as knights for King Corcoran.    Every time Zach sought him out, Rordan ignored him. He turned his face away and refused to communicate.  He had asked Zach, before the Inquisitor carried his sentence of torture, to escape with him. Zach had refused and they had not spoken since that day, nearly five years ago.

Rordan didn’t want to be Zach’s personal pendant.  He would rather toil every day in the scorching sun than be his former best friend’s personal slave. Zach had failed him, and Rordan couldn’t forgive.  

Every few months, Zach Demilo would hunt him down.  He would find him after Sunday services, or when he was working in the farm fields, and try to talk him into becoming his pendant.  Every time, Rordan refused to speak to him.  

Finishing his breakfast, he got up and set his bowl in the wash bin. Then, he headed out to the fields with the rest of the men.

Today, they would water the vegetable gardens. It had been a hot summer, and every plot was dry and wilting.

It was hard work.  Rordan and Demetrius grabbed their yokes and buckets and started making trips to the nearby water pump.

While they worked, they hummed. As they all lacked tongues, they could not talk or sing.  Because their hands were busy, it was hard to converse in sign language while they worked. They hummed, and the beautiful sounds filled the fields.

The sounds joined to create a melody, sometimes rising to a crescendo, and sometimes so soft it was barely audible over the wind.

When everyone got quiet, you knew the overseer had come to pay a visit.  The intense silence was like an alarm bell across the fields.

They worked until lunch and then they headed back inside and had soup.  Today it was chicken soup with bread. They left their bread in the bowl until it became soft and was easy to eat.

Then they went back for an afternoon of work. This afternoon was weeding detail.  Rordan picked up a hoe and started moving down his row of beans. There weren’t a lot of weeds to remove, so he pretended to be busy.

His mind wandered, thinking of home and his children.  Lise would be almost seven now, and Rory five.  He wanted to cry when he thought about all he had missed.  He thought of Viola and wondered if she longed for him as much as he did for her.  He dared to let his mind wander farther.  He started thinking about Safira and her visions.  She had told him his tongue would be cut out.  That prophecy had come true.  She had described exactly what had come to pass.  She had also described his escape, so he knew that would happen.  He had no doubt in her abilities.  He just did not know when he would be free, and he was becoming impatient.

He couldn’t do it alone.  They would hunt him down and kill him.  He would never make it ten miles, let alone all the way to the border with no food, money, or voice.

Suddenly, his internal voice spoke to him.  Take the offer from Demilo, the next time he asks.  You are a fool who won’t forgive.  It may be your path out of here.  You are an idiot, and let bad feelings cloud your heart.  Maybe he can at least help you get a letter to your family.

He caught a lonely weed out of the corner of his eye, and he attacked it with the hoe with a newfound resolve.

A red-headed spitfire of a young woman ran as fast as her legs could carry her, past the lord’s manor, across the meadow with its butterflies and flowers, and into the woods.  

Morgan was fifteen, and she was supposed to be helping her mother and the other girls in the kitchen, but as usual, she had snuck out.

Ever since her mother had made her quit school to work in the kitchen, she had been rebellious.  She had loved learning, and to this day, she still read every book she could get her hands on.  After dinner every night, she read furiously by candlelight, until well past bedtime.  

Recently, her parents had been pushing her to court one of the young men who served Lord Armond.  But she wasn’t interested in any of them.  They were all dull, unambitious, and would serve in the same lowly positions as their fathers until they died.

Right now, Morgan was only interested in one thing, magic, and witchcraft.  She was eager to see her friend, Pat Howell, who was the local witch.  The old woman’s skill with magic was a well-known local secret.  She provided good luck charms, amulets, and medicine.  Pat was the local midwife as well, and some women also turned to her for fertility potions.

Morgan wasn’t supposed to be learning magic from the strange lady in the woods.  If her father found out, she would get the switch, even if she was nearly a grown woman.

Her father was a commoner, like his father before him.  They lived on the estate of Lord Christopher Armond, who was kind and fair.  Their family had lived here for generations. Their lands were profitable, and he paid them all a decent wage, at least compared to the other lords in the Kingdom of Eastmere. 

Morgan smiled as she ran down the path.  She was hoping Pat would show her some real magic today, not just potions and good luck charms.

The door opened a crack and the old woman peered out.  Morgan, what are you doing here? She whispered fearfully.

What? Is something wrong?

You’ve got to go!  They have turned me into the Temple!  If someone sees you here, it could implicate you in witchcraft! Pat hissed.

What?  Who turned you in, Pat? Morgan said.  Who would do that?

Goodman Lawrence.  His child was born dead, and he blamed me. He wrote to the Temple and told them I was a witch.  I need to flee before they come for me, but where would I go?

Come to Lord Armond’s manor.  I’ll hide you in the basement, Morgan offered.

Silly girl, they will burn me, and then drag you to the Temple. The Inquisitor will delight in getting your confession. Just go, Morgan, maybe they won’t come for me.  Maybe they will understand that these are baseless accusations from a heartbroken man.  Go!  Go now, before they see you! Pat said, urgently, and she slammed the door, leaving Morgan standing there, flabbergasted. There had not been a witch-burning in this part of Eastmere for decades. Morgan hoped it was all a mistake, and walked back to the kitchens, feeling dejected.

Viola held both her children’s hands as they walked to school that morning.  It was the first day of classes after the summer break.  Of course, they had magic lessons with Marcus and Lyle all summer, but now it was back to book learning.

This would be little Rory’s first year of school, and he was chatting excitedly.

You’re going to be my teacher and the other boys and girls from the order will be there, right?

Yes, dear, and there are a few new children who have arrived from Cheshire, Duvall, and Norrse.  Five, I believe, who will join our class. Viola squeezed his hand.

I can’t wait to meet new friends! Rory cheered with a little skip.  At that moment, he looked so much like his father it nearly broke Viola’s heart.

Since Rordan’s capture five years ago, Viola had taught at the school to fill her time.  She taught reading, literature, and mathematics to the younger children, and they had another teacher, Sam White, who taught the upper levels.  Once the children turned sixteen, they could become full knights, and sign on with the Order of the Fallen.

Viola and Sam taught school lessons during the morning, and Marcus and Lyle taught magic lessons to the children in the afternoon.

Viola was proud of what they had built. Parents from around the world were sending letters of inquiry. They had talked about hiring another teacher because their class sizes were getting large.

The Order of the Fallen had grown from a ragtag collection of men from around the world to a force to be reckoned with.  Rordan and Gretchen had recruited the knights five years ago.  They had started with fifty men and now they numbered nearly one hundred and twenty-five, and Marcus had told her that Master Simeon had to be quaking in his boots.

Viola wished Rordan could see what his dream had grown into.  She wished she could talk to him, or receive some news as to how he fared.  She wished for a lot of things.

But she did not give up hope. The girl, Safira, had told her the visions of Rordan’s punishment and his escape. She had seen Rory taking his seat as King of Eastmere, with Rordan and her at his side.  Viola knew at some point Rordan would return to her. She just had to be patient.

Marcus and Brandon had gently told her that Rordan wouldn’t be able to speak, as the Temple had cut his tongue out as part of his punishment.   His captors had tortured and branded him a pendant.  For the past five years, she had been learning sign language, hoping she would understand Rordan when he returned to her.

It was also necessary because the order now had six former pendants.  They taught the children sign language because they would need it when they became knights.

One ex-pendant had told her, with great reluctance, what Rordan’s life was like now. 

Do you really want to know? he signed sadly.

Yes, she said, please tell me. So my mind at least can imagine what he is doing every day.

He signed slowly, so she would understand.

It depends on where the overseer has assigned him. Normally, Pendants start out working manual labor in the laundry, cleaning, or on the farms.  The work is hard, and the overseer is very strict. He physically punishes anyone he finds lacking. Rordan will be thinner than you remember, but strong as a mule.  The Temple takes good care of their slaves, with decent food and their own simple cell. Sunday is the only day off and is spent in prayer. There is no hope of escape, and if one tries, they usually end up dead or rotting in the dungeons with the Inquisitor. Once a person has served as a pendant for a while, they may become a priest’s personal attendant.  The work is much easier, much like a maid.   But much depends on who they get assigned to.  Some priests are kind, but others are cruel.  Some priests want just a friend, other priests demand more.

What do you mean more? Viola asked.

He looked at her sadly and then signed.   They want a lover in their bed. Consensual or otherwise, there is no discussion or recourse if the feelings are not mutual.

Viola looked horrified. That’s terrible.

You are a lady. We normally wouldn’t air such dirty laundry, but you asked.  And it’s probably important for you to know.

Did you know Rordan when he was younger? Viola asked.  Many of the knights had known him, either from when they were young or from meeting him during the campaign across the sea.  To a man, they all liked and respected him.  It brought them all great sadness that their leader was not with them. Brandon Duchard had done a fine job filling Rordan’s shoes as Knight Commander in his absence, but they all wished he was with them.

We were older.  We trained with Marcus and we both served on the farms before we escaped.

How did you escape?

It was during the troubles in Penn.  Most of the knights were in battle, only a small force of priests remained at the temple.  A group of us, about twenty, escaped. We lost five, who were all captured and killed.

I have hope Rordan will return to us, Viola said. Do you think that he can escape?

Yes, it is possible, he signed.

After classes had ended that day, Viola delivered her class to Marcus for their magical training. After working them hard, he delivered them to Brandon, where they trained in swords, weapons, and fighting.

Lise was especially talented at sword fighting and bow and arrow.  She regularly beat Gretchen now at target practice, at only seven years old.

Rory’s magic, which had developed at an especially young age, was the most powerful Marcus had ever seen.  It astounded them at the force and power of his elemental spells.

Lise’s magic was not nearly as powerful, but she had proven a surprise as well.  Somehow, she could do paladin magic, healing, smite, and barrier, without saying a word.  She couldn’t really explain how she did it.  I just want to do it, and I can, She would say, shrugging.

In a first in the history of magic, she found she could heal herself.  Brandon and Marcus couldn’t decide if she was a specialist, or if her magic had somehow evolved.  It was unknown, but for now, they considered her a specialist, although a strange one.

Viola was thinking of all this as she walked from the school and training yard to the castle.

It was a fair summer day, with few clouds in the sky.  It was a day that called to be spent outside on a horse.  But Viola wanted to drop in on Lara, and her dear sister was afraid of horses, so she wouldn’t ask