The Reborn King (Book Six) (33 page)

Aremiel smiled at her. “Of course. You’re absolutely right. I’m sorry.”

They spent the next few hours together talking quietly. He then excused himself, promising to return early the next day.

Later that evening he told Orias what he had learned. But his friend only shrugged and dismissed any possibility that either of them would be chosen.

“The fact remains that you are the son of High Lady Velinia, and I am the son of Morzahn. I for one would most certainly not want to face your mother if they chose you.”

Aremiel tried using this logic to calm his nerves. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very wrong.

It only took two days for the final candidates to arrive, but by then rumors were circulating that the new guardian had already been chosen. Even so, a feast was held to honor all who had been considered. Orias and Aremiel stayed at this only as long as courtesy required, after which they spent the rest of the evening in the training room. Sword practice always took Aremiel’s mind off things, and he was eager for the distraction.

The night before the announcement was to be made, he was unable to sleep. He wandered the halls for a time, then made his way to the ramparts. Orias was already there, waiting for him.

“At least we don’t have to bribe the wall sentinels anymore,” he joked.

Aremiel thought about the first time they had been up here together.

“You were so scared,” Orias said, reading his thoughts.

Aremiel chuckled. “So were you. I just didn’t know it.”

“I still am.”

There was a long silence.

“If I am chosen, I don’t think I can go through with it,” Aremiel eventually said. “I can’t imagine my life without you at my side.”

Orias placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a fond squeeze. “If you
are
chosen, you will take a piece of my heart with you, my friend. But you
can
do it. And as much as I hate the thought of you leaving, I can think of no one better to guard the
sword
than you.”

“I can,” he replied.

The two men stared out into the night in quiet contemplation. They had been together for most of their lives. That Orias was older and had become a knight first was the only reason they had been separated at all. For both of them, it had been a long three years. And as soon as Aremiel took the oath, he insisted that he be partnered with Orias. Now…it could all end.

The next morning Valshara was a beehive of activity and excitement. The High Lady would be given the council's choice, and she would then read it aloud in the courtyard at midday. Every member of the Order who could attend would be there.

Orias and Aremiel spent their time in the training room instructing the students. For them, it was an honor to have two candidates there. But for the two knights, it was a thrill to see the new talent that would one day be riding into honor and glory.

When the time finally came, they were escorted to the courtyard. A platform had been erected, on which all the candidates were lined up at the rear.

Trumpets sounded as the High Lady exited the temple and then ascended the platform. In her hand was a sealed parchment that contained the name of the chosen one.

She raised her hand to quiet the crowd. “For thousands of years the Order of Amon Dähl has been charged with protecting the greatest power in the mortal world. And for thousands of years we have never failed in our duty. It is the reason the Order was founded, and our most important purpose of all. For that reason, only the very best amongst us is picked to reside in the
Sword of Truth's
resting place. There he lives, and there he eventually dies. This sacrifice is made to ensure the safety of all people, and is an honor not given lightly.

“Behind me are the bravest and most honorable knights our Order has to offer. Their character and deeds have earned them all a special place in our hearts, and I feel that any one of them would be a worthy guardian of the
sword.
I know that I am not alone when I say that we are so very grateful for their loyal service.”

She closed her eyes for a moment before opening the parchment. “But only one can be chosen.” She opened her eyes
and looked at the name. For several seconds she did not speak. The crowd began to stir with impatience. “The one chosen is…”

Her voice cracked and she was forced to clear her throat. “Aremiel.”

The crowd erupted and immediately began chanting his name.

Aremiel was unable to move. The sound of his own name did not seem real. His mother reading it aloud was like remembering a dream of years past, though it had happened only a moment or two ago.

He felt someone take hold of his hand and pull him forward. It was his mother. He had not seen her, even though she'd been standing right in front of him. Tears were streaming down her face as she lifted his arm aloft. The sound of the cheers increased until the excitement reached a fever pitch.

He was still unable to move on his own when his mother embraced him.

“It will be all right, son,” she whispered into his ear.

He wanted to say something, but had been robbed of his voice. After a time the crowd became calmer. Eventually, after managing to shake off the initial shock, he stepped down from the platform. Orias was close behind him.

Ignoring the calls of congratulations from those he passed, he made directly for his mother’s chambers and waited there until she arrived. Orias sat beside him and said nothing. As soon as his mother entered, he leapt up from his chair.

“I won’t do it,” he shouted. “I won’t spend the rest of my life in seclusion.”

The sadness in her eyes was immeasurable. “You must. And you will not really be alone. The gods will be with you.”

“Bah! Tell that to Orias. He’s the one dedicated to the gods.” He looked down at his still seated friend and immediately felt guilty. “Forgive my hasty words. I meant no insult.”

Orias smiled warmly. “I know you didn’t. But your mother is right. The gods will be with you. You will hear their voices, and it will fill your heart with joy.”

Aremiel dropped hard back down into his chair and put his face in his hands. “Why did they choose me?”

“Because you are the best of us all,” Orias replied. “Everyone knows it.”

“I know you don’t want to leave your life behind,” added the High Lady. “Or your friend. But it will be many years before the current guardian dies. Until then you are free to do as you wish.”

Aremiel looked up. “Then I will continue with my duties as a knight and hope the current guardian is blessed with immortality.”

“I think both Orias and I wish that as well,” she said.

Orias got up and slapped his friend on the back. “Who knows? With me around you might not even live long enough to take the position.”

Normally this would have brought an angry remark from his mother, but on this occasion she instead cracked a tiny smile. This quickly grew wider and wider until turning into outright laughter. Soon, all three of them were laughing loudly together…though no one really knew why. It was like an island of joy amidst an ocean of despair.

“I think I will stay here for a few months,” Aremiel said after calming himself down. “I’d like to help instruct the new students.”

“Sounds like fun,” agreed Orias. “I can show them why
I
am the superior swordsman.”

“We’ll see about that,” he shot back, grinning.

Orias winked. “We will indeed.”

Baltria-
32 years earlier

“I hate this city,” complained Aremiel. “Too many agents.”

“You hate every city,” said Orias. “All for the same reason.”

“I just don’t like them. They’re far too devious.”

The two men rode past the city gates, pausing only to ask the guard for directions. Not that they really needed them. But it was always better to appear as if you were new to a place. It helped to keep people from wondering why you were in areas that you shouldn’t be. And though this trip was not dangerous or covert, it was an old habit.

“At least the food here is good,” said Orias. He spotted an attractive woman in a short skirt and thin blouse. “And the Baltrian women are much easier on the eye than those in the dirty little trading posts you prefer.”

Aremiel shook his head in mock disapproval. “Then I take it I won’t be seeing you tonight.”

“Not unless you come with me,” he replied. “You could keep me out of trouble.”

“I doubt even I could do that.”

“Agreed. But it’s an excuse to do something other than sit in your room and read.”

In truth, Aremiel would have very much liked to go with him. But the time was fast approaching when he would have to take his place as guardian of the
sword
. There was still much he needed to know before that happened, and being that he had chosen to spend most of his time away from Valshara, he had to learn what was required during their travels.

“I’ll think about it,” he lied.

Orias scowled. “As you wish, commander. But you really need to get some enjoyment from life before you take up your position as guardian.”

Aremiel didn’t like it when Orias spoke of their impending separation. “According to you, my heart will burst with joy when that time arrives. So why worry about what I miss out on today?”

“There is no talking to you, is there?” his friend grumbled.

They wound their way through the streets to the inn where they would be staying. Their assignment was simple. Remain at the inn until the agent contacted them, then escort her to a location in the Eastlands. As usual, there was no way of telling how long they might be required to wait. On their last assignment they had been held up in Helenia for more than a week.

Naturally, during their time there, Orias had soon found a way of getting himself involved with a group of merchants who were extorting the temples. He had at first intended to simply frighten them off, but ended up beating two of them nearly to death. At the end of it all, in spite of Aremiel’s reprimand and outward anger, it was hard to deny that his intervention had greatly improved the situation. What's more, he'd managed to do it without anyone knowing that Amon Dähl was involved.

On arriving at the inn, they ate a quick meal and retired to their rooms until the evening. The agent would know who to ask for whenever she showed up, so Aremiel took the time to relax. The place wasn’t upscale, but the beds were soft and the rooms clean. After weeks of sleeping in the open, it was a welcome respite. Unfortunately, his pleasure was not destined to last for long.

Just as he was dozing off, there came an urgent tapping on his door. Experience had him grabbing his dagger before he even realized he was doing it. But before he could fully raise himself from the bed, the door opened and a woman entered. She looked to be in her sixties, though not frail. Her tanned skin hid many of her wrinkles, and only thin wisps of gray hair peeked out from beneath her bonnet. She carried a cloth covered bundle in her arms.

“You are Aremiel?” she asked.

“I am. And you are?”

“It doesn’t matter who I am,” she replied.

Aremiel could hear the anxiety in her voice. “Has something happened?”

“Many things have happened,” she answered. “But what you should be concerned with is in here.” She laid the bundle on the nearby table.

“What is it?” he asked, suddenly suspicious. He felt uneasy around agents. Particularly agents who kept dangerous secrets. And this seemed dangerous already.

“There isn’t time to explain,” she said. “But there are things you must know before you take over as guardian of the
sword
.”

His uneasiness rose. “Who are you?” he demanded.

She moved close to the door before replying. “I was a friend of Orias’ mother. And to my eternal shame,
I
was the one who murdered her.”

Before a stunned Aremiel could say a word, she hurried from the room. He gave pursuit, but she was out of the inn and lost in the densely crowded street before he was able to stop her.

His head spinning with questions, he returned to his room and carefully opened the bundle. Inside was a thick, leather-bound book and a folded parchment. Picking up the parchment, he began reading.

Aremiel,

I come to you because my heart will no longer allow me to remain silent. I hope that you are the man people claim you to be. If so, you will find a way to use what I have given you for the good of Amon Dähl.

First of all, you should know that the death of Orias’ mother was not a robbery. I killed her under orders from my superiors. Please know that I was told a lie and acted with the understanding that I was doing my duty. They said that she had found the location of the Sword of Truth and was planning to pass this information to her husband. I now know this to be untrue. If Morzahn ever did discover the sword's location, she was not the one who divulged it to him.

The book I am giving you was written by Orias’ mother and details the reasons Morzahn was driven to betray the Order. The corruption and greed described is beyond anything you can imagine. How deep it goes and exactly who is involved, I cannot say. But as you are the son of the High Lady, I can think of no one better to bring this to. Should I attempt to take it to her myself, I would be discovered and likely never make it to Valshara. I think they already suspect that I am aware of them, and if they knew I possessed this book, I would quickly find myself in a shallow grave.

I am sorry to involve you in this, but I have nowhere else to turn. I pray that you can undo the evil that has been done in the name of the gods. Tell Orias that I hope he can forgive me for taking his mother from him, even though I can never forgive myself.

I will now try to go east to the borderlands, and then into the deep desert. There are rumors of nomadic tribes there. Perhaps my enemies will not think to look for me in such a desolate place. Please do not seek me out.

Good Luck,

-S-

Aremiel re-read the letter several times, unwilling to believe what he was being told. His eyes then shifted to the book and lingered there for several minutes. He tried to reach out and pick it up, but was unable to. It was as if he had lost command of his muscles. Only a loud pounding at the door jerked him out of his stupor.

Orias poked his head in. “Are you coming or not?” 

“I…um…no.” He wanted to tell his friend what had happened, but something inside said that he should wait. “You go ahead.”

Orias shrugged before shutting the door again. “At least I tried.”

With movement now restored, Aremiel picked up the book. His hands trembled as he placed it on the table in front of him and turned to the first page.

For the next few hours he pored over the text in absolute horror. It contained explicit details of the most heinous crimes imaginable, nearly all of them being committed by actual members of the Order. It seemed that they had been manipulating just about everyone for decades - the temples, kings, lords, merchants, and even the common people – all to advance their own hidden agenda. Orias’ mother believed that their ultimate aim was to maneuver and corrupt the nations of the world until they were literally unable to function. Then, when all was on the brink of disaster, a small core group of conspirators would be able to seize power and rule all humankind.

The temples were their chief means of exercising influence, and they had corrupted members within every single one of these, from the Abyss to the desert.

He continued to read until hearing Orias returning from his night out. Though still only halfway through the text, he had already uncovered hundreds of atrocities - murders, thefts, and treacheries of every conceivable kind.

His door opened and Orias stumbled in, smiling broadly and clearly a little worse for drink. “You look terrible,” he grinned. “I said that you should have come with me.”

Aremiel gestured for him to sit down. “There is something you need to know.”

Orias rubbed his eyes. “I think I've had a bit
too
much fun tonight. Can’t it wait until morning?” But the expression on Aremiel’s face quickly conveyed the urgency of the matter.

It took Orias a moment or so to focus after Aremiel handed him the letter. But the second he came to the part about his mother, his eyes shot wide and the effects of the wine vanished. Just as Aremiel had done, he read it again several times. Then, as if it were made of thin glass, he placed the parchment delicately on the table.

“And you believe this?” he whispered.

“I do.”

Orias’ breathing was becoming rapid and shallow. “Let me see the book.”

Aremiel handed it over. Orias studied the first few pages, then closed it again.

“It is my mother’s handwriting,” he confirmed. He looked at Aremiel with hollow eyes. “Have you read it all?”

“Much of it,” he replied. “Your father was right. All this time we believed him a traitor…and yet he was right.”

“How can you say that?” Orias demanded. “Even if this is all true and the men he killed were a part of the conspiracy, he still was seeking the
sword
. That alone makes him guilty.”

“Then what do you think he should have done?” Aremiel shot back.

“The same thing that you are about to do. Go to the High Lady and report what you know.”

“And if
she
is involved?” The words stung, even as he spoke them. He didn’t want to believe it. But he knew he couldn’t deny the possibility.

“Your mother is a good and honest woman,” Orias countered. “Do not allow this to poison your heart. She is
not
involved.”

“You can’t know this,” Aremiel said. “But you are right. I must speak with her.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“No. You stay here and complete our assignment. If this runs as deep as I think, we must act as if there is nothing amiss. I am the chosen
guardian
. If I return to Valshara alone, no one would think it out of place.” He lowered his head. “But before I go, there is something more I must tell you.”

“Speak,” Orias urged. He could see the conflict on his friend's face. “Whatever it is, I’ll understand.”

The next sentence caught in his throat. “If the High Lady is involved, then I am partly responsible for your mother’s death.”

Orias furled his brow. “What is this nonsense? Of course you’re not.”

“I told her what your father said to you,” he explained. Guilt racked his spirit. “I told her about his message to your mother.”

Orias gave him an understanding smile. “I thought you might, even then. You never could keep secrets from her. But that was a long time ago. And like I said, I know she is not involved.”

“But what if she is!” He hadn’t wept in years, but now tears were starting to fall quite freely. “What if I’m responsible for...”

Orias’ hand came up, silencing him. “You are
not
responsible for my mother’s death. And if I am wrong, I still do not blame you. You were only a child then, and you did what you thought was right at the time.”

Aremiel could only nod.

“Whatever happens, trust that the gods will guide you,” he continued. “Listen to what they say and all will be well.”

Mention of the gods only brought forth anger in Aremiel's heart. They had allowed their own temples to become corrupt and vile. Where were the gods when an innocent child was murdered just so someone else could inherit power and wealth from its father? Where were the gods when villages were burned to the ground because they would not sell their land to local lords? Where were the gods when husbands were slain in order to marry the wife into a more influential family? These and countless other crimes had been committed by the temples – and all of them covertly orchestrated by members of Amon Dähl. Yet still the gods remained silent. But Aremiel dare not say any of this aloud. Orias would never accept it. He was a man of absolute faith. To him, even the evil that had infected the temples and the Order was being
allowed by the gods for some greater purpose. Aremiel could see that in his expression.

“I trust in
you
, my friend,” he said. “That has to be enough.”

His ride to Valshara was plagued with rain. It was as if the storm was following his every mile. On the morning he departed, Orias had suggested he join him in prayer at the temple of Gerath. He had refused.