CHAPTER EIGHT A DELIVERY OF FATE Standing aside Elias, amidst the Brethren and awaiting the High Priest, Garrick felt nervous. His sword, bow, and arrows had been taken from him before entering the Great Hall as a precaution, or custom, as Elias had told him with a slight smile. He didn’t need his weapons, but the mercenary felt almost naked without them.

  Garrick knew no one inside the Great Audience Hall, except for Elias. He was, at least, an acquaintance after their short time together, but the captain of The Knights of Providence was used to these audiences, these numerous men in white robes, and the man who would soon sit in the throne-like, meticulously chiseled chair of stone that was slightly above him.

  Garrick, on the other hand, was an outsider, and he felt uneasy, even though the men in the hall posed no threat, or ill will for that matter. All the mercenary could do now was be happy that this short adventure in his life would soon be coming to a close.

  “I see Balcon coming. He will announce the High Priest soon,” whispered Elias above the voices of the Brethren discussing the matter at hand behind them.

  Garrick watched as a smug looking middle aged man walked out, then stood in front of the High Priest’s seat and quieted the audience.

  “All bow. The High Priest Liam Jarstinian graces our presence,” announced Balcon. Then he walked past Garrick and Elias and joined his fellow Brethren, who were bowing.

  As the High Priest walked to his seat, Elias and Garrick bowed as well. Once the High Priest was seated, Elias and the Brethren stood straight again, as well as Garrick, who followed their lead.

  The description Garrick had heard from others about the High Priest was true. Yes, Liam Jarstinian was indeed an older man, but he was still in impeccable shape for one his age. For any average man, for that matter.

  The High Priest’s robes, adorned with the symbol of Elion, a tree trianguted by three stars, over each breast, did not engulf him. Instead, they showed pinly that, despite his change of vocation ter in life, Jarstinian was not one to keep himself only in books, holy or secur.

  After the High Priest reached his seat, he slipped his staff into a holder attached to the side of the throne-like chair and let it slide down slowly into a groove in the floor. Then he sat down and looked over the room.

  “A wonderful gift from Dwarf King Dormir Ironhearth and his craftsmen,” whispered Elias, admiring the sturdy, yet elegant chair. Then the knight shifted his gaze to the High Priest, who was now looking at him. The knight, caught off guard, quickly stood up straighter.

  “Elias, I know you to be of fwless character, both on and off the battlefield,” began the High Priest. “What you have told me today, if true, will certainly change things, not only for us, but the world of Danaria as a whole.” Then the High Priest looked over at Garrick. “Is this the mercenary you told me of?”

  “It is,” answered Elias. “Garrick Landow is both a brave warrior and, as you can see by his actions in this matter, a man worthy of respect and honor. He not only has delivered to us this scroll, as promised to our dearly departed friend Braelind, but he also gave our brother a full burial as well. As I speak, a detachment of knights are on their way to transport his body. Though his spirit is now in Elion’s Embrace, his body will soon rest in peace within The Holy City, as it should be.”

  After the High Priest nodded at Elias, he returned his gaze to Garrick.

  “On behalf of all in this room, and all others that Braelind’s life has touched, I thank you for all you have done. Braelind will be missed. He was not only of The Brethren, he was a caring cleric to all, and...” The High Priest stopped for a second, stroked his well-kept gray beard, composing himself and finished, “...a close friend of mine.”

  Garrick, taken aback by the kind words, and unsure of what to say, bowed his head slightly.

  “May I have the scroll please,” said the High Priest. It was more of a statement than a question.

  Elias opened his hand. Garrick looked at the scroll one st time and breathed in. Then, as he handed it over to Elias, he exhaled, knowing that he had not only kept his word, but that everything was now out of his hands. Whatever Braelind believed. Whatever Pawps and Mawmoo believed. Whatever Elias, Stephen, or his own mother believed, for that matter. What would happen next would be up to more learned individuals and not up to a mercenary.

  After Elias handed over the scroll to the High Priest, he turned, locked eyes with Garrick for a moment, then walked to the entry of the Great Audience Hall and stood steadfast, though his mind was racing.

  The room was quiet for the next minute as the High Priest studied the scroll. Both its condition and its writing. The Brethren, who were almost always whispering in discussion and debate behind Garrick, were silent, their eyes fixed on their leader.

  “If this scroll is counterfeit, it is a good one,” replied the High Priest, setting the scroll down on the arm of his chair. “The legend of the King Priest and the Scepter Sword, to some, range from children’s bedtime stories to hopeful apocryphal beliefs. Then the High Priest’s face beamed with faith. “However here, in this city, it is truth. It is the history of the early days of Elion and his retionship to his creation. Yes, it reaches so far back that this history has only been kept alive orally, but we believe it to be true.”

  Loud shouts of agreement came from the Brethren, forcing the High Priest to pause briefly.

  “Before the Holy Stones were ultimately separated from the Scepter Sword by the King Priest and split between the three good races to keep its power from nding in the hands of evil once again, the Scepter Sword’s power was unparalleled; the peak weapon of rule. A weapon that could cut through any bde, armor, or shield. It pierced rock. Its strength so immense, it could sy a sovereign dragon. When wielded, wind came forth for defense, or to bind an adversary. With the Scepter Sword the King Priest could even call down fire to destroy his enemies, then rain for purification.”

  The High Priest grabbed the ancient scroll again and pointed it toward Garrick and the Brethren. “This scroll, if real, not only confirms the legend we believe, but is the first written proof that the King Priest and the Scepter Sword are more than a mere story.” Then the High Priest looked at the mercenary. “Garrick Landow. What is your retionship with Elion?”

  Garrick, surprised by the question, was silent for a moment as he gathered his thoughts.

  “I believe in Elion, High Priest. My mother was a strong believer in the god of all creation. The magic of wizards and the miraculous healing come from his spirit...”

  “No no,” cut in the High Priest. “I did not ask if you believed in Elion. I asked, ‘What is your retionship with Elion?’”

  Garrick nervously put his hands behind his back. He was no liar and certainly would not want to start now, with the High Priest practically enthroned before him.

  “I will say that Elion and I have not always seen eye to eye. Especially in my past. Also, if it helps, I have never looked to become a cleric...”

  Then he looked over at Elias. “Or a Knight of Providence.”

  “Yet you not only went out of your way to not just brave three to one odds for a cleric you did not know, you traveled three days, even battled two trolls. And then when you could have given the scroll to the captain of The Knights of Providence and gone your way, you did not,” stated the High Priest, leaning forward.

  Suddenly, anger surpassed Garrick’s nervousness. Then he pointed at the scroll.

  “The man cared more about that tattered old parchment than his very life. His final moments of living were spent pleading with me to deliver it to you. How could I not help him?!”

  The Brethren behind Garrick began to murmur loudly. Balcon turned and raised a hand, and his fellow white-robed clerics slowly quieted.

  Garrick looked over at Elias standing at the entrance. The knight shook his head in disappointment. Then Garrick took a deep breath.

  “I am sorry. Forgive me for my outburst...” began the mercenary.

  “No. No. Garrick please rex. This is not a trial,” spoke the High Priest, with the palm of his left hand lifted. “I am not looking to catch you in a falsehood or question your decisions. I trust in Elion for guidance, but I must do my part as well.”

  Garrick watched as the High Priest began to caress an antique silver chain of what the mercenary could only assume was a medallion under his robes. The chain was very old, different from the ones all the clerics and Brethren wore. Most likely passed down to each High Priest, he figured.

  “You see, one part of the legend of the Scepter Sword that is often overlooked is that the bde will be wielded again to protect Danaria in its darkest days. In its greatest time of need,” continued the High Priest to the whole audience before him.

  Then he looked back at Garrick.

  “You, mercenary, bring confirmation to us not only that the Scepter Sword is real, but also where it is. Which can only mean that those foretold dark days could soon be upon us.”

  Garrick looked over at Elias, who instantly stood up straighter and took a step forward, his face grim and serious as Balcon walked nervously toward him. When he reached the knight, Balcon started to whisper erratically to him as he pointed at the High Priest. Elias spoke only a few words, calmly, and Balcon returned to his pce with his fellow Brethren.

  Garrick’s mind raced. What was happening? Then it hit him. He had never heard that part of the legend, and by the reaction of Elias and Balcon, the Knight of Providence and the Brethren hadn’t either.

  Garrick returned his gaze back to the High Priest. The old man was studying him intently as the whispers in the Great Hall began to die down.

  “Tell me Garrick Landow, what do you want to do now?” asked the High Priest when the room was silent again.

  A brutal mix of emotions converged on the mercenary at once. Anger and confusion added to his nervousness.

  “What do I want to do?! I pn on going back to the mercenary guild at The Crossroads and returning to the life I led before being mixed up with this order and this legend. I have delivered the scroll. I believe that is enough!” excimed Garrick.

  Elias started toward Garrick, his face stern, but the mercenary could tell from his body nguage that the captain was more livid than he let on. After a few steps by the knight, the High Priest raised his hand and Elias stopped. The High Priest then shook his head, and Elias slowly returned to the entryway again. Then the High Priest picked up the scroll once more as he continued to eye Garrick.

  “Perhaps this is where your involvement ends. Perhaps not,” stated the High Priest calmly. “I will ask Elion for a sign of what all this means tonight in my prayers. I ask that you give me that time and that you think over what all this means, yourself.”

  Then the High Priest looked at Garrick as he stroked his beard. “Why you were given the scroll. Why you decided to deliver it to us, when you could have tossed it away, sold it, or kept it for yourself. Whatever the case, the scroll was given to you. And you brought it here.”

  The High Priest rose from his seat and grabbed his staff, then looked back at the mercenary for a few seconds as he thought, “Perhaps today is a sign that it is you who should seek out the missing Holy Stones and retrieve the Scepter Sword for all the good peoples of Danaria.”

  Garrick was speechless. The High Priest was unconventional for sure, but this was madness.

  The low voices from the rows of the Brethren behind him discussing the High Priest’s statement was all that could be heard as he waited to hear Garrick’s answer. Then the High Priest asked Garrick a question that the mercenary never saw coming.

  “After my prayers to Elion, if the god of all creation has made it clear, would you go on the quest for the King Priest’s Scepter Sword, if I asked you to?”

  Garrick smiled while shaking his head in disbelief. If his mother could see him now, in front of the High Priest discussing the Scepter Sword. One of the legends she believed and had taught him as a child.

  Then something moved inside of him. Whether it was because of the memory of his mother or because of the time spent these st few days with Braelind, Pawps and Mawmoo, Elias and Stephen, and now the High Priest, Garrick surprisingly started to say yes, but instead gave a short ugh at what seemed absurd. Then he promptly bowed toward the High Priest and though he already felt he knew the answer, the mercenary replied,

  “Ask me again tomorrow, my holy friend and you will have my answer then.”