“Where are you going?”
Alesso paused and glanced at the pink haired bard. “I’m taking a piss. Would you prefer I do it in here and let you watch?”
Caelynn didn’t move from where she sat near the opening, she just glared at him. He didn’t bother to explain any further. Walking through the narrow opening, he headed down the corridor a short way. Not so far that Caelynn would be concerned, but far enough that he wouldn’t be heard.
She doesn’t trust me. None of them do. That Althir won’t give me a slot on the watch schedule where I’m alone is a slap in the face. We’re supposed to be brothers, yet what sort of trust has he ever shown me? None. He had a seat at the high table while I scrubbed floors! His mind drifted to Thia. What’s so special about the priestess, anyway? They all treat her like she’s made of glass. She’s a half-Fallen witch! She may pray to Keroys, but there’s no way he’d give her the stores to cast the spells she does. She’s a creature of Lolc Aon, through and through. There’s nothing about her that’s even remotely human.
“You’re late,” a voice whispered behind his ear.
Turning, he met the Fallen woman’s gaze. “It took longer to get to the archway than your note said it would. Some Fallen witch kept attacking us.”
“It doesn’t matter.” The woman’s stark white hair was cut short. “They’re asleep?”
“All but one,” he replied. “She’s near the entrance. You should be able to knock her out without much fuss.” He stared at her. “Nothing lethal, that was the agreement. On any of them.”
“None will be harmed. They’ll go into a deep sleep, and we’ll liberate Herasta’s daughter. If they choose to pursue us after they wake, I cannot promise what Lolc Aon will do to them.”
“My payment?”
She stepped aside, revealing an older woman in a dirty dress. A chain around her waist led to the wrist of another Fallen. The slave raised her head, and his heart skipped a beat. “We are many things, paladin. Liars or oath breakers are not among them.”
Ignoring the dig, he looked away from his mother and back to the Barren leader. “Give me her chain. You know where they’re at.”
“Not yet.” The woman snapped her fingers, and several Fallen walked past him, carrying a wooden coffin. “When we have Lolc Aon’s prize, your mother will be given over to you. And we will send you both someplace safe. Until that happens, the deal is not complete.”
Nervously, he kept his eyes on his mother and tried to ignore the feeling he had about this being wrong. I made a vow to free my family before I made any to Garret or my brother paladins. She’s a witch, same as the rest of the Fallen, and has no business in the human world.
He heard someone fall over. Caelynn? He pushed the guilt aside. This was what he needed to do to fulfill the promise he made to himself. For thirteen years, he’d held to it. No matter the cost, he would rescue his family.
Ashynn told him about their mother and how the Barren would trade her once he led Thia and the rest to the conduit. And how their father had died less than six months into their captivity. It was the one chance he’d had to gain her freedom. Althir would be pissed, yes. But he would be tied up down here, trying to rescue someone who probably wouldn’t want to leave.
The calcified walls that created the chamber where they had camped turned a sickly dark purple. From the haze, the Fallen emerged with Thia’s naked body and placed it in the coffin. Once sealed, they walked past him. The last one emerged, holding his pack and helm, and tossed them at him.
“She’s all yours,” the leader told him, handing over the bracelet that led to his mother. Something about the woman’s cold smile chilled him. The moment he grasped the chain, the world around them spun violently.
“Alesso?” he heard his mother cry, confusion and fear in her voice.
The kaleidoscope of color and shapes subsided, and he blinked. They stood in the central courtyard of the chapterhouse in Dragonspire. He smiled. “It’s fine, Mother,” he reassured her. Placing his pack and helm on the ground, he embraced her. “We’re safe now. See the men running toward us? They’re my brothers in arms. There’s a blacksmith here that can get you out of the chain.”
Turning, he raised a hand in greeting as the commander strode their way. He said, “Drakkus, it’s me.”
“I know who it is,” he growled. “Timon,” he turned his attention to the young boy next to him, “take Lady Potiri to Henry, ask him nicely to help free her. Words need to be said that she shouldn’t hear.”
Alesso blinked in confusion as the page led his mother away. “Drakkus, I don’t understand . . .”
The fist came out of nowhere, connecting hard against his jaw and almost knocking him to the ground. “You’re lucky that’s all I was allowed to do. Someone else claimed the right to punish you for this.”
The bitter iron taste of blood filled his mouth and he spat onto the ground. “I haven’t done anything wrong, Drakkus. Who thinks I did?”
“That would be me, Potiri!” A deep voice rang through the courtyard.
A chill ran down his spine. The ring of armored knights surrounding him parted, and Garret walked toward him. Alesso dropped to his knee. “My Lord,” he breathed. “How may I be of service?”
The polished boots stopped in front of him. “Stand up.”
Rising, he kept his eyes off his God.
“If there is one thing I cannot abide, it’s an oath breaker.” The God stepped back, raising his voice. “When you enter my service, you give your word to serve me in all things. Who can recite these words to me?”
As one, the paladins surrounding him answered: “From this day onward, we are not just men. We are paladins of Garret. We follow his laws. We protect those who need it without hesitation. We draw our sword in need, not anger. We do not attack those who cannot defend themselves. Our lives are no longer our own, but his to command.”
“Do you remember swearing this oath to me, Potiri?”
“Yes,” he replied, “and I have kept to it.”
“You lie to my FACE!” the God roared in anger. “I spoke with your sister. I know where you were, and what you intended to do. That your mother is here is proof you carried through on it.” He turned, gesturing toward Alesso. “Strip him of his sword and armor,” he commanded.
Several paladins came forward. Alesso stood, stunned, as they began to unbuckle each piece. The sound of them clanging against each other as they were tossed into a single pile echoed through the courtyard.
“My paladins, he has turned over someone to the Fallen. A woman who has done him no harm. Indeed, she saved his life. And not just any woman. Thia Bransdottir is the Daughter of Keroys, Marked by him for a purpose. He has traded her life, handed over the power she possesses, to one who would twist it to something beyond evil. Something you will have to fight, and probably die, to protect Avoch from. This man who claimed to be your brother has sacrificed not just her body, but her soul. Sacrificed your lives. And for what? To bring his mother back from her enslavement.
“I’m not saying this is not a noble thing. But I told him, when I sent him to aid Thia before, that I would speak with my sister about his family. I would work to free them from Byd Cudd. He could not wait for me to fulfill my promise. In his impatience,” Garret thrust a finger at Alesso, “he has given Lolc Aon the one thing she needs to return to your world and enslave everyone you know. He has traded the life of a woman he swore to protect, offered up the lives of each of you, in the process.”
Alesso stared at his God; his eyes wide. Thia was Marked? A Daughter of Keroys? “No one told me,” he whispered.
Garret turned on him. “You didn’t need to be told, Potiri! As a paladin, you swore an oath to protect the innocent, not turn them over to Lolc Aon. You promised to follow my laws. Is not one of those to keep yourself separate from Byd Cudd and my sister unless I direct you to do differently?”
“Yes.”
“Did I not give my word, as a God, to see to the release of your family?”
“Yes, but—”
“Did you sell out Althir, as well? Or the others that travel with him?”
“No,” he replied. “The Barren promised that the rest would not be harmed unless they chose to chase after them.”
“You’d better hope he can find Thia before she gets handed over to Lolc Aon.” Garret stared at him intently. “Give me your medallion.”
Alesso’s heart sank, “My Lord, please,” he begged.
“Give. Me. Your. Medallion. Now.”
Wordlessly, Alesso reached under his tunic and grasped the chain. Raising it over his head, he handed it over.
Garret took it and stepped back. Alesso drew back from the look in his God’s eyes. With a quick movement, the medallion was snapped in half. Garret dropped both pieces onto the ground, driving them into the dirt with his heel. “Hear me, my warriors. From this point forward, the name of Alesso Potiri is to be marked as Foresworn within your ranks. He is no longer a paladin of mine. None may give him aid or quarter. His family shall be sheltered and protected so long as they wish it. Let this shame be his alone to bear. Now,” he pointed toward the gate. “Get out of my house.”
The heavy wooden doors swung open. As the ring of knights shifted to give him passage, they all turned their backs to him. Stunned, he grabbed his pack from the ground. The armor he once proudly wore sat in a heap; the hilt of his sword dug into the dirt from the weight. His exit led past the smithy, and he caught sight of Henry working on the chains that bound his mother. Without a word, the blacksmith put down his tools and turned his back to him. His mother followed suit.
Anger rose in him, and he straightened his back. I won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing weakness. If the witch was as important as Garret claimed, I would’ve been told. Althir has a part in this. It stinks of privilege!
He left the chapterhouse, not even turning around as the gates swung shut behind him. He had some coin, but it wouldn’t last long. At least Ashynn and Mother will be fine, he thought. I’ll get some gear, find a job. Plenty of caravans that need mercenaries.
If Althir comes out of this, I’ll finally be able to prove to him I’m the better swordsman. No rules to keep me from killing his arrogant ass now.
He adjusted his pack as he looked at the road around him. Ahead, a few small groups were heading into the city itself. His chances of being hired and evading any of his former brothers who would revel in beating him to a pulp, would be better if he had a sword. Resolutely, he headed toward the gates leading into Dragonspire.
Halfway there, he spotted the wagon lumbering his way. The driver hid beneath a hooded cloak. Alesso stepped off the path, giving way to the team. “You look lost, friend,” a male voice said as he stopped the horses.
“Not lost,” he replied. “Just between jobs. Where are you from? I don’t recognize your accent.”
“Many places,” he replied. “You have the look of someone who knows how to use a sword.”
Alesso inclined his head. “I’ve had some training, yes.”
“My Master is in need of someone to protect him in that way. You would be given food, shelter, and have access to armor and weaponry that most would never dream of. And paid, of course.”
“Keep going.”
“He would also give you the chance to enact your revenge against Prince Jinaari Althir.”
Alesso narrowed his eyes, trying to see the face of the driver. “Who is your Master, that he would know of such things?”
The man turned his head, and the hood slid down. Gray skin covered the emaciated, bald head. An unnatural green light ringed his blue eyes. A wraith? “My Master is Drogon. He is Forsaken and in need of a sword. Your options are limited, Alesso Potiri. Few would hire a disgraced paladin of Garret. Even less will once the reason why your God deemed you Foresworn becomes known. If you believe this is all due to Althir and the Fallen witch, then climb into the wagon. If not, keep walking. You’ll be dead in less than a week; your corpse lying in a broken heap in some alley after your former brothers find you. Drogon does not make offers lightly, nor does he repeat them.”
Withered hands reached up, replacing the hood to its place as the wraith turned his focus back to the road ahead. Althir knew she was Marked. He had to. Alesso added it to the list of slights he believed Jinaari had directed at him over the years. It was bad enough he had been deployed as a backup when the rest went after Drogon initially. To be able to gain experience at the hands of a Forsaken mage . . . the next time he met Althir, there would be a reckoning.
Without hesitating, he walked around to the back of the wagon. Tossing his pack onto a small box, he climbed in. The wraith shook the reins and the wagon jolted forward.