Valkyrie's Shadow

Legacy of the Plains: Act 3, Chapter 14

Legacy of the Plains: Act 3, Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Morning arrived, and Marcus and Lorenzo found Alessia already outside in the plaza upon leaving their lodgings. Fully attired in her shining mithril platemail, the young Paladin cradled her helmet in the crook of her left arm as the edges of her pure white mantle waved in the wind. Her voice was light and cheery as she greeted them with a bow.

“A blessed morning to you, Captain Lorenzo, Brother Marcus.”

They returned her greeting, and Marcus wondered how far she had gone with her use of the mithril plaque. She presented an immaculate appearance that would only entrench the notion of a righteous Paladin in the minds of the citizens around her. Long having known the girl, however, how perfect her appearance was only drew suspicion.

“You look all ready to go,” Lorenzo said.

“Yes Captain,” Alessia saluted. “As instructed, I have made myself presentable for inspection by His Excellency the Bishop.”

“Good…good,” the captain replied, giving her a brief once-over. “If everyone looks even half as decent, I will have no complaints. Are we ready to assemble, or do either of you need to see to anything?”

“I am ready to depart, Captain!” Alessia replied.

Marcus examined her with a critical eye again. Was she just excited to arrive at their destination, or was she up to some mischief?

“Marcus?” Lorenzo’s voice prodded him out of his thoughts.

“Yes…ready to go, Captain.”

“Alright,” Lorenzo said. “Head back to the port district and ready your mounts. See to mine as well: I will be waiting here to bring up the rear.”

They saluted the captain again before turning to head back down to the port. As they followed the raised sidewalk along the highway, Marcus glanced at Alessia again.

“You seem just a bit too enthusiastic this morning,” he said. “Was this inn you stayed at so good?”

To his surprise, her bright expression faltered and crumbled. She faced him with a look lacking all of its previous lustre.

“I…I could not enjoy it,” she said quietly. “I kept thinking of what would happen today. I just lay abed staring at nothing, worrying.”

“Worrying? About what?”

“We go to meet his Excellency the Bishop today, yes?”

“Yes,” Marcus replied, “but we have a Bishop in Altamura, and we saw him often enough. You seemed to not mind His Excellency, even when he chased you around with a broom.”

The reminder of her days as a Squire failed to draw any visible reaction out of Alessia. Her expression remained as troubled as before.

“This is true…but that was at home, in a place comforting and familiar. Before now, everything was so clear: our duty was to defend humanity. To defend humanity, we needed to fight. Now, the answer is not so simple. Now, I have been summoned for some unknown purpose, and I still cannot guess what it is. The words of the Priestess at the border…they made me realize that we have been thrust into this strange place where the fates of tens of millions of our lost brothers and sisters hinge on our actions. How can I step forward knowing that if I step wrongly, all may be lost forever?”

Several wagons passed below as Marcus listened to her worries.

You are being too hard on yourself, Sister Alessia.

I am confident you can face what comes – else why would they choose you?

He struggled to come up with something encouraging to say, but any words that rose in his mind rang hollow for he was not so sure of everything himself.

“Maybe…maybe the answer is not so complex as you think,” Marcus said.

“Brother Marcus?”

“When you were ordained – when you took your oath – what did you swear? Er…let us not recite the whole thing, but what did it mean to you?”

Alessia looked ahead, her gaze focused on something that was only visible to her.

“To be the shield of humanity,” she told him. “A Defender of the Faith. A living instrument of the gods that stands between the people and those who would bring upon them ruin; a hand that reaches out to them in their time of need.”

“Then this is the foundation of the justice which you have sworn to uphold,” Marcus said. “No matter what you do, it is the core of what you are. Do you think it so easy to turn away from your convictions? When injustice happens before your eyes, can you bear to look the other way?”

“I could not, Brother Marcus.”

“Just so,” he smiled. “Though the way you perceive the world will shift over the years, this sense of righteousness will never change. To seek justice and uphold it – to be an example to all, an inspiration to all – this is the essence of being a Paladin. You are right that this place is not like home and nothing is clear, but here, where half of everything is turned upside down, you are the best of us. You are not only blessed with a strong bloodline, but the gods have gifted you with keen judgement and a sharp mind. The Bishop and the Grandmasters must also know this; I cannot think of any other reason why they would choose you in particular.”

Despite his encouragement, Alessia frowned as she looked down at the pathway in thought.

They continued on in silence, descending to the harbour level and crossing under the highway to where their horses were being stabled. The wagons that had carried them through Corelyn County were already absent, and their things were arranged nearby under the watchful eye of several of the town militia. There was a Death Knight present as well, who seemed to scrutinize everyone that came close. A handful of Paladins were already there, making ready for the last part of their journey to the city.

Marcus walked up to his mount: a handsome chestnut stallion who had been his companion for over half a decade.

“Did you enjoy your break?” Marcus asked as he patted him in greeting. “I wonder what you have to say of all this, hm?”

His steed only snorted in reply. Maybe he was resentful for being put back to work again. Marcus continued preparing his mount as more of the contingent arrived. Alessia led her own to stand near him.

“Do you know if we are to enter the city armed?” She asked.

“I have heard nothing to the contrary,” Marcus said. “It would have been stated clearly, I think. You are nervous, I know, but remember what I said.”

“Of course, Brother,” Alessia said. “I have taken your words to heart. I am just feeling that everything will be blamed on us if anything happens.”

It did feel that way, he supposed. It was a place full of things that they were unused to and there seemed to be much that was not permitted. Those that they spoke to only saw it as a natural part of their lives, but to the Paladins who came from a place where the temples held purview in enforcing order, it was anything but.

“It is their land and their laws,” he said. “There have been no incidents so far, so the others seem to understand this well enough. We are to serve the Human populations here, anyway. If the days that have passed are like the days ahead, it should be manageable.”

“If.” Alessia replied, “We have not even seen the Demihumans that are supposed to be around yet. If a stinky Ogre reaches out for me, I will definitely give him a good whack, no matter what anyone says.”

“Alessia…”

To think that she was considered the mildest of her generation in Altamura – he counted it a blessing that no one had brought any Squires along.

Lorenzo appeared with the last few Paladins, and Marcus tensed as they organized their mounts into a tidy double column. The others must have felt the same way, judging by their stiff expressions. Their captain rode by and paused midway, his gaze taking a measure of his men.

“Half of you look like your horse just died,” his gruff words rolled over them, “and the other half like your horse just died in the middle of the Katze Plains and you must make your way out on foot. We are about to present ourselves before His Excellency the Bishop of E-Rantel – if we come in looking all grim and dour, he is going to be wondering if he has the right people or not. You have from here until the city to fix that. By the time we reach the gates, I expect to see all of you reflecting the pride and conviction of the Paladin Orders.”

Lorenzo rode towards the head of the column and sounded the advance. The banners tied to their lances snapped straight as they ascended onto the highway and turned into the wind. Through the centre of Corelyn Harbour they rode, the procession of mounted Paladins in their full adornment drawing curious looks from the townsfolk they passed.

“Maybe I should have bought more pastries,” Alessia said as she rode beside him.

“You were so worried. Now you are thinking of food?”

“I am still worried, but having something nice might improve my mood.”

Did you just not spend all of last night worrying amidst luxury?

Perhaps she was just putting on a brave face. Reaching down behind herself to rummage through a saddlebag, Alessia produced a strip of tough-looking jerky.

“After the last few days,” Alessia examined the piece of salted meat with a critical eye, “this does not seem so appetizing anymore. What did you bring, Brother Marcus?”

“The same,” he replied. “Some trail bread and cheese as well. We will be in the city in an hour or two, anyways – if the layout of the city is like these places, there should be plenty of food stands around the temple to pick from.”

The thought appeared to mollify her somewhat. After a few minutes, they were out of the town’s northern gate, following the highway past rows of vineyards that stretched out to the horizon on either side. Traffic appeared sparse until they reached the crossroads. It was a strange sight, with the new highway crossing south over the old. Stranger still since the road running from east to west clearly saw more use.

Their pace slowed to match the caravan in front of them…then that slow pace came to a stop. Marcus leaned out to see what was going on. Ahead, the members of the contingent were starting to dismount.

“What is going on?” He called out.

“Traffic,” one of the Paladins ahead replied.

A few minutes later, they had all dismounted, leading their horses on foot and gathering to speak between themselves. Every few minutes, they shifted forward a few wagon lengths. It wasn’t exactly slow, but...

“I want my tension back.” Alessia complained as she drew her mantle about her, “We could not charge this gate even if we wanted to – we only get to stand around baking in the sun while we wait for this queue. It is already autumn – do clouds not exist in this country?”

It certainly was one way to dampen any sort of excitement. The measures that the Sorcerous Kingdom was taking in building towns that absorbed the majority of incoming freight made a lot more sense now that they were stuck waiting to get into the city. All cities were built to facilitate trade, but there was only a certain volume that a fortress city like E-Rantel could allow before it would need to sacrifice the effectiveness of its defences. It was certainly not built to be the bustling capital of a nation.

Looking forward and back, he only saw Human merchants and caravan labourers. Occasionally, a Soul Eater with its wagon came down in the opposite direction hauling mundane-looking cargo. They were as often driverless as they had drivers. Marcus wondered if they, too, had to go through customs on the way in.

As they drew within ten kilometres of the gate, the chatter between the Paladins fell to nothing and the atmosphere grew solemn. Marcus was no different, and Alessia’s lips had tightened into a thin line. The banners of the Slane Theocracy snapped smartly in the wind, in contrast with their grim expressions. Marcus’ gaze went to the source of the change. What he had observed of the temple staff and the people in the past few days slowly fell into place, like pieces of a previously unfathomable puzzle.

How had nothing of this gotten to the Theocracy? Anyone who had visited the ancient cathedrals of their homeland knew this appearance. His eyes left the towering statues, briefly crossing with Alessia’s. As with everyone else, she gave no indication of her thoughts, but they must have been there. Everyone knew, but none dared put it into words.

They crawled forward for an hour under the familiar image portrayed by the towering statues before finally reaching the gatehouse. There were several members of the city militia stationed there, as well as a pair of Death Knights and an Elder Lich. One of the militia officers was discussing something with the Elder Lich, throwing occasional glances in their direction. Marcus left his reins with Alessia and walked up to the front.

“Did something happen?” He asked Lorenzo.

“Not that I know of,” the captain replied. “We have not done or said anything aside from stewing in this line.”

Lorenzo tapped the roll of documents in his hand over his bracer, as if to silently make a point to the officer in front of them. After a few moments, the man that was speaking to the Elder Lich turned to approach them, taking a deep breath before speaking.

“Welcome to E-Rantel,” he said, “city of the Sorcerous Kingdom. I trust that this is your first time here?”

“That is correct,” Lorenzo replied. “Is something the matter?”

“Not with your group in particular, no,” the man told them. “However, there were several incidents with visitors recently that have become a cause of concern with the citizens. In response, we’ve prepared an orientation of sorts.”

“An orientation…” Lorenzo drew the word out, “Are you assuming that we carry the risk of such incidents in your city?”

“We make no such assumptions,” the man replied. “Nor do we assume that everyone is aware of how different this city is from what it was before. This orientation is for your benefit more than our own. Honestly, since you’re so composed in front of the Death Knights, the orientation should be more of a workshop to give you a quick rundown of things and have some of your questions answered. However, it is mandatory – entry to the city proper is barred until you’ve completed it.”

“Then I suppose that there is nothing to do but take you up on your offer,” Lorenzo said. “Do you have a place for our horses?”

“Yes, of course,” the man replied. “This way please; there’s a mustering field behind the office.”

He led them inside the gate, where they came across an odd sight. The main street continued to the second wall of the city, but the space between the outer and second wall was mostly quiet. The man had mentioned a mustering field, which Marcus had assumed to be an exaggeration, but he saw it was exactly that.

A furrow formed on his brow at the sight of the dry patch of earth with its baked mud and sparse clumps of grass. Places where tents had once been pitched and the remains of campfires were still marked distinctly over the landscape. There were even rows of posts damaged in a way suggesting that they had been used for training spearmen.

“What is this?” He muttered to Lorenzo.

“It is as he said, I suppose?” the captain replied.

Lorenzo’s eyes scanned their surroundings with uncertainty as well. Marcus could see similar fields lining the avenue that curved off into the distance. Between them were either shoddy-looking warehouses or presumptuous looking buildings that reminded him of rustic rural manors.

“How is this place used?” Marcus asked their guide after dropping off his mount.

“The Military District?” The man turned to answer him, “The Royal Army stayed here during the annual skirmish back when we were still part of Re-Estize.”

Marcus’ mouth fell open. Could it be that the manor-like structures were meant for the nobles who brought their levies, while the fields were where they put up their men? The clear difference in treatment between them must have had a staggering effect on morale.

What were they thinking? Were they even thinking? There were rumours floating around the Theocracy about the abhorrent state of Re-Estize as a nation, but after the last few days, he thought that these accounts might have been greatly exaggerated. The sight of this place made him once again reconsider.

The entire district was also a colossal waste of space. His previous post of Altamura was a fortress that acted to guard against major incursions from both the Katze Plains and Beastmen who could potentially break through the northern fringes of the Draconic Kingdom. It was also a training installation for the Theocracy’s regular army, so Altamura was close to fully manned at all times of the year. It shared no resemblance to this ‘military district’, save for the fact that it had walls.

This place, by the way the man had described it and its apparent layout, was used to house Re-Estize’s army on a temporary basis: a convenient lot of land where they stored their fighting men like so much livestock.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Lorenzo shake his head wordlessly. He couldn’t help but shake his head as well. They had just travelled through Corelyn County, with its sleek highway, expertly cultivated valleys and settlements of efficient and purposeful design to this horrifying monument to impracticality and disregard for the well-being of their fellow man. Marcus resisted the urge to spit in disgust.

“I would think that the Sorcerous Kingdom has no need for this district,” he said to the militia officer. “I heard that some changes were due.”

“Well, we try to use it in what ways we can for the time being, but you’re right. His Majesty’s army doesn’t need this district, so I think they’re just going to turn it into something else once they figure out what. I’m just a guy at the gate though; we ain’t privy to all that sort of information.”

The man looked past Marcus and Lorenzo and cleared his throat in the dusty air.

“Looks like everyone’s done tethering their horses,” he said to the captain, “I’ll take you and your men over to the office now.”