Valkyrie's Shadow

Chapter 17

“Blessings of The Six be upon you,” the Bishop’s hands were held out in customary welcome. “Your arrival has been eagerly anticipated: a soothing hand for lands that yearn to feel the touch of the gods once more. I am Bishop Austine, and I greet you on behalf of your brothers and sisters in the north. Please stand, good Paladins – or have a seat, if you prefer.”

The latter was a strange thing to say, but Marcus fixed his expression as the Paladins rose to stand once again before the Bishop. Meetings like this were always strictly formal in the Theocracy, so the Bishop’s suggestion that they might interact more casually made Marcus uneasy in turn. The rest of the column maintained their orderly rows.

The Bishop only smiled when he saw that no one would move.

“Very well then,” he said, “if this is what you prefer. In your time here, you’ll come to understand that we practice many aspects of our shared faith a bit differently. You must also forgive me for not performing the usual rites: though E-Rantel is not a large city by the measures of our brethren from the south, there’s still an ever-growing list of supplicants to tend to. Mana is quite scarce these days.”

“Of course, Your Excellency,” Lorenzo replied. “Reportedly, your circumstances are great cause for us to rejoice, so an apology is unnecessary. We are proud to help shoulder your burdens, and our hearts are uplifted to see the return of our lost brethren.”

“I’ll remind you of your words if ever you ask for a break,” Bishop Austine said with a twinkle in his eye. “Let’s review what’s to be done, then. I trust that the city authorities have explained what is expected of both citizens and guests in E-Rantel and its constituent territories?”

“We were invited to an orientation when we reached the city gate, yes,” Lorenzo replied. “It may take some getting used to, but there should be no confusion over the points conveyed. I understand that the Temples and their staff have authority of their own as well?”

“That’s correct,” the Bishop said. “Re-Estize law is secular by definition, but the Temples have the right to regulate the use of divine magic and see to the spiritual needs of the population. While this would be straightforward in a place like the Theocracy, it becomes a great deal more complex in the Sorcerous Kingdom. The faith of The Six is one of many present in this nation – the majority of the others being those of non-Human peoples. In addition, there are quite a number of Druids, Shamans, spiritualists and other mystics here, also mostly non-Human. The laws adopted by the Sorcerous Kingdom regarding the Temples have been expanded to include all of them.”

“I cannot imagine how this might work,” Lorenzo frowned. “Where would our jurisdiction begin and theirs end? How do we even enforce that which is within our purview when the state has its separate laws to observe?”

Marcus couldn’t figure it out, either. Maintaining the order of each congregation still felt straightforward, but rates for spells were generally standardized and all temples kept to the same schedule. If there were many different religious organizations throughout the realm, did everyone just agree to the same thing? Or would the sick and injured simply seek the cheapest healers?

Bishop Austine had a look on his face that suggested that he understood their confusion, being there once himself.

“In Corelyn County,” he explained, “it’s fairly straightforward as the living population is entirely Human. The various peoples outside of the capital are, for the most part, segregated from one another, save for a few notable exceptions. Even being out in other rural territories does not present many issues: each race tends to stay in the places that are best suited for them. In the future, however, population growth will eventually lead to some…blending of lines. For the time being, the Royal Court has suggested that we put our heads together and figure it out before it becomes a problem. Legally, it isn’t their place to dictate temple policy, so they’ve left the details to us to deal with.”

“So we are to…collude with heretics and heathens? Demihumans, Heteromorphs and other inhuman monsters?”

Lorenzo was aghast. It was a face-heel turn from the way that the Temples handled things in the Theocracy. There, the temple administration determined what was appropriate based on statistics collected from every part of the nation. It was not something that was negotiated.

“It’s about as difficult as your expression suggests,” the Bishop chuckled, “though probably not in the ways that you probably expect. The attitude of the Temples existing prior to the Sorcerer King’s reign – both those of The Six and of The Four – has not changed very much when it comes to interactions with foreign faiths from those times. The other faiths are insular by nature, being mostly rooted in tribal societies save for that of the Azerlisia Mountain Dwarves. It’s unheard of that anyone comes to blows over matters of religion here. Comparing all of the different rates for divine magic is what creates most of the headaches when attempting to establish standards.”

“Comparing the rates?”

“Yes,” Bishop Austine smirked. “The foremost issue is that most of them don’t even use coinage for compensation, nor do they have any to begin with. Imagine me going to our first meeting and finding out that one group pays in roots, fish or berries, another in furs and trinkets, and yet another in menial labour or sexual favours. Never mind the latter, we had to call in the Merchant Guild to figure the rest out. Even they were driven to distraction since the material values between everyone didn’t match from place to place. At least three races heal their people for no compensation, while one of the Demihuman tribes in the Great Forest of Tob actually has the highest compensation.”

“I can’t help but ask,” Lorenzo said, “where do we sit on this scale?”

“Near the bottom somewhere,” the Bishop replied with a helpless shrug. “I suppose that it means our faithful enjoy the benefits of cheap divine magic? We were all left uncertain about what to do, while the Merchants we called in were instead quite excited at their findings. In the end, we could only determine standard rates within the city: they are the same as our neighbouring Human nations. It will take time to figure out the rest.”

“Will that mean that we should expect Goblins and Ogres to walk up and offer us payment for healing?” Lorenzo frowned at his own words.

“No more than you would go to a Goblin Shaman for healing, I think.” The Bishop said, “The various peoples tend to prefer the priesthoods they are familiar with, but there are ordinances that oblige us to aid in efforts to curb the outbreak of plagues or other emergencies that overwhelm what healers are normally available. These, too, are laws inherited from the old government. Ah – before your faces turn any more sour, I will say that the government itself has access to several extremely powerful divine casters. They would be called upon first in such an emergency. Considering what I’ve seen and heard reported, a catastrophe on a national scale would have to occur to overburden them.”

Marcus straightened the frown that had unknowingly crept onto his face. Bishop Austine stepped away to retrieve a small binder from a pew in the front, flipping through its pages as he walked back.

“These powerful divine casters,” Lorenzo asked, “if they come from within the government – no, I will get to the heart of the matter. What we have seen of the temple staff on the way here; then the statues at the gate…Your Excellency: who is the Sorcerer King?”

Bishop Austine’s hand stopped.

Ai…he went and asked.

The Paladins looked up at the Bishop expectantly. Surely he would have an answer to everything they had witnessed on their journey.

“Since you will be stationed in the city, Captain Lorenzo,” the Bishop said, “you will see with your own eyes soon enough.”

“What does that mean?”

“The Sorcerer King regularly takes walks around E-Rantel,” Bishop Austine replied. “So by simply living in the city, he will eventually cross your path.”

“That was not the sort of answer I was expecting,” the captain said.

The hint of an amused smile traced over Bishop Austine’s lips over Lorenzo’s dissatisfaction. His hand resumed flipping through the pages of the binder.

“Tell me, Captain,” he asked. “What do our scriptures say of the time when our gods lived amongst us?”

“It was a blessed age when humanity was saved from the brink of extinction and sheltered by their unassailable might. The people of the time transcribed the tenets of our faith from their words.”

“But what do our scriptures say of their daily lives?” The Bishop asked, “How did the people conduct themselves around the gods when they walked amongst us? Did everyone fall to their faces in worship and adoration whenever they were graced by their presence? What rituals were performed in their name? What songs of praise did they sing?”

Captain Lorenzo’s brows knit together as he frowned over the Bishop’s questions.

“Nothing of the sort is described, Your Excellency,” he answered. “Only that they lived amongst us and left descendants whose blood runs in our veins to this very day.”

“Then knowing this, would it strike you as odd if His Majesty the Sorcerer King only wishes to see his people live in safety and happiness while also living amongst them?”

A long silence stretched on between them. Lorenzo’s face went through a series of complicated expressions, reflecting Marcus’ own thoughts. Something deep within him yearned for this, but something else cried out for more. Yet he could not expect any more than what was described. As was written in the scriptures of their faith, their gods simply lived amongst them, securing a place for humanity in a world without mercy for their kind.

Marcus smiled ruefully to himself. What had he been expecting? A triumphal declaration of the gods’ return? A grand crusade to lead humanity to its long-awaited glory? The scriptures never mentioned any of this – they were only wishes born of his ambition and pride.

He looked to his left and right; to the supplicants in the pews arrayed to either side of him. As his eyes crossed over the old sacraments adorning the cathedral’s interior, his rueful smile fell and sudden tears blurred his vision in a moment of crystalline clarity.

On their journey, he had witnessed what he just suddenly realized in every labourer in every vineyard and orchard; in the villages, hamlets and the harbour. Yet, even as a Paladin, he had been blind to its significance.

The faithful of E-Rantel had been here for centuries. They were the legacy of those who had answered the call of the Great Seeding – the Clerics, Missionaries, Evangelists and pilgrims – who left the safety of the Theocracy to bring the light of The Six to the world. They held fast through the great heresy of the north and, to this day, continued to endure.

There was no great strength of arms here; no wealth; no advantage. No sprawling institutions or political systems spearheaded the mandate of the gods. It was a place hostile to the Faith of the Six, and against the spiritual and cultural adversity of centuries, faith stood alone. In every man, woman and child, the pure flame of that faith continued to burn – their spirits refined and tempered to a degree unseen even in the seat of the Theocracy’s power.

Even with the advent of a god, they carried on unperturbed, assured and content. They were as the Humans of six centuries ago, with whom the gods had chosen to dwell.

If he has truly descended upon this place, this must be the reason why.

The seat of the faith was in the Slane Theocracy, but its soul resided within the Sorcerous Kingdom.

Marcus scrubbed his cheeks as he purged his pride and presumption. Rather than he and his fellow Paladins being here to help guide the people, it felt like they had come only to be shown the way.

“No, Your Excellency,” the captain’s voice wavered with barely-suppressed emotion, “all is as it should be. Thank you for opening our hearts to the truth.”

Bishop Austine did not reply, nor did he make any readable gestures. Instead, he finished flipping through his binder, drawing out a small stack of papers.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he handed the documents to the captain. “As things are as they should be, your duties await. Here are your assignments. Of your number, only seven will be staying here in E-Rantel. The rest will be serving in various parts of Corelyn County. Your work is not dissimilar to that of Temple Guards in the Theocracy, save for the fact that the majority of your time will be skewed towards aspects of civilian ministry.”

“There are more than a few of us going to territories with the Katze Plains nearby,” Lorenzo noted as he sifted through the assignments. “Will we be called upon to remove Undead, should they appear?”

“No, and yes,” the Bishop replied carefully. “National security is primarily dealt with by the administration, including patrols that keep the Undead from Katze Plains out of the Sorcerous Kingdom. The administration has not precluded the idea that hostile beings, including Undead, may still appear inside the borders, so you are authorized to deal with these threats should you be on hand. More often than not, however, the locals will report them to the local security forces rather than the local temple or shrine. The Undead forces of the Sorcerous Kingdom can discern between their own and any hostile Undead, so they have an easier time with it than we do – accidental attacks against Undead servitors have happened in the past, and the fines are quite substantial.”

“I suppose we have guessed correctly, then,” Lorenzo said. “We will be working with the congregations for the most part, and any sort of militant action will be limited.”

“That’s correct,” Bishop Austine nodded, “though we’re so endlessly busy here that you’ll probably start thinking that fighting the Undead every day is easier. If you’ve any questions about your assignments, I’ll be more than happy to answer. The midday service is starting in about an hour, however, so we’ll be getting busy here in a bit.”

The captain turned around to face the contingent, calling out a name before handing out each assignment. Marcus retrieved his own, looking down at the neat, angular handwriting detailing his assignment. He would be heading back to Corelyn County to serve in the harbour town.

There were no expenses – most were handled by the local temple, just as in the Theocracy. A modest allowance was provided, of an amount expected for a Temple Guard. His eyebrows rose when he saw that he was granted a home in the town by House Corelyn. Around him, Marcus noted many others reacting similarly as they read through their own assignments.

So much for wondering if he could buy a new house with the mithril plaque – he had just been given one instead. Fishing the favour from his belt pouch, Marcus walked up to the front of the group.

“Captain,” he said as he held up the shining green slip of metal between two fingers, “we are to return these, yes?”

“Ah, right,” Lorenzo looked up from reading the documents before him. “Your Excellency, how are these to be handled?”

“Hmm…there should be a case for those?” The Bishop said, “Once you’ve retrieved them all, I’ll have someone from the Merchant Guild come and pick them up.”

Another Paladin came to address the Bishop and he turned to speak to him. Marcus walked up to Lorenzo.

“So, where did the good Captain end up?” Marcus asked, holding out the mithril plaque for collection.

“The good Captain ended up in the city,” Lorenzo replied. “Though this should have been obvious.”

“You have all the comforts of the city,” Marcus said.

“And all the rest that comes with the city,” Lorenzo rolled his eyes. “From that smug look on your face, I take it that you believe you have landed some choice assignment?”

“I have no such look…do I?”

“Oh, you do.”

Marcus cleared his expression, though he did not quite believe what Lorenzo said.

“Well, I have been assigned to Corelyn Harbour,” Marcus said. “Managing the others in the county.”

“Who is the Captain now?” Lorenzo grunted, “Though as my second, this also should have been obvious.”

“Well, I still report to you; we will be seeing each other often enough, I think.”

“Oh wonderful,” Lorenzo snorted, “you get to watch my hair slowly fall out in this crazy place. What of your old Squire?”

“I have not asked her yet. Speaking of which, did the matter we spoke of come to pass?”

“Yes. Once we are settled, I am to start formalizing things. We are all to take as many new Squires as we can handle, save for our young Sister Alessia…she will have ordeals of her own.”

“...ordeals?”

“I will let her tell you, if she means to – yes, what is it?”

Lorenzo addressed a Paladin that appeared at Marcus’ side, and Marcus left him to deal with the other members of the contingent. He found Alessia sitting on a pew halfway down the aisle, staring down at her assignment.

“So, the great mystery is finally unveiled,” Marcus grinned down at her. “What adventures lie in store for our future hero?”

Alessia started at the sound of his voice. She scowled up at him.

“That is not funny, Brother Marcus.”

His grin faded.

“What is the matter? His Excellency the Bishop does not appear to be a mean-spirited man. For what reason did he request your presence?”

“I…I am to serve as adjutant to Vicar Aspasia,” she said. “A Cleric of Surshana.”

“A Vicar…what sort of Vicar?”

“The young sort.”

“There,” Marcus’ grin returned, “is it not as I said before we came? That seems perfectly fine to–”

Alessia’s assignment appeared in front of his face. He stopped to read over it. His light expression melted away by the time he was two-thirds of the way through.

“…what is the meaning of this?” He couldn’t keep the shock out of his voice, “You are to–”

Marcus stumbled backwards as the head of a warhammer whipped out from behind the sheet of paper and nearly grazed his nose.

“Hsst!” Alessia stood and waggled the weapon in his direction, “Say nothing! If the others hear, I will die of shame. Why this? Why me?”

Why, indeed. Marcus thought to himself. He was right about the first half, but the remainder just seemed so terribly wrong.

“Will–” He raised his hands as Alessia threatened him with her warhammer again, “Will you speak to His Excellency about this?”

“There is nothing to speak about,” she replied. “This is what I will be doing. For this, I was expressly summoned.”

“I-it could not be that bad, could it?” Marcus wasn’t sure how to console her.

Alessia lowered the paper and the warhammer. She looked up at him with a blank expression, and her lip twitched.

“Hah.”

She turned to sit back down and stare at her assignment again.

Marcus meant to share the details of his own assignment with her, but Alessia would probably go berserk upon seeing it. He took one last look at his former Squire before turning around to find many members of the contingent awaiting him.

That’s right, I have to lead them back south now…

“Go ahead and get some lunch,” he told them. “Many of you will be out in the villages, so you will not be seeing much of the city for a while. Try and pick up everything you will need from here.”

The group dispersed, and Marcus went to address the few that were still around the chamber. When he finally finished and followed after his men, Alessia was still sitting where he had left her, frowning down at her new duties.