Chapter 45: Regent.
Tatania had followed the Elderly Templar into the Inn and, after he spoke to the Innkeeper, waited until the burly man showed them to a room on the upper floor. The four templars who stood as escort followed them up the stairs, taking their post at the door.
Entering the large room, the Elderly Knight made his way to the fireplace and stoked the flame, ensuring that the warmth spread throughout the sparsely furnished room before he moved to the window and opened it. He looked outside briefly, satisfied that no one might hear their conversation. As he did, Tatania took the opportunity to inspect the knight.
Sir William was tall, though hunched with age. His silver hair, cut short above the ears and around the back of the head, made him look more like the sea-raiders she remembered from her homeland. He had a kind face and would have been a handsome man in his youth.
Closing the shutters, the Knight gestured her to a chair. “Please, Beati, do not stand on my account. What I have to tell you may take some time.”
Smiling, Tatania took the place further from the fire, not wishing the older man to suffer any discomfort on her account.
“Thank you, Sir Knight.”
“A pleasure, Beati. But if it pleases you, call me William.” He requested, with a small bow. “It makes my heart glad to see such a certain confirmation of my faith embodied in a form as kind and beautiful as yours.”
“Flatterer.” She laughed lightly, showing that she was grateful for the kind remark. “You said you wished to discuss a plan to keep the church unified in God’s cause.”
“I did, lady.” Sir William said. “There are many factions within the church, and even more that are at odds with the Vicar of Christ.”
Tatania’s eyebrows rose. “At odds with the Pope? He would have them excommunicated, surely?” Her face fell as she realized that is exactly what the Pope had done to the Templars.
The elderly knight merely smiled. “Aye. The Church excommunicated our Order, though we bear Mother Church no ill will for the dealings of a corrupt vicar and a corrupting French King. We, however, remained faithful to God. The truth of Jesus Christ never wavered in our hearts.” Sir William crossed himself.
“Now that our Lord has granted us this system, displays of holy power may be used by corrupt prelates and these factions. You are—and will be—seen as a prize to be captured. It is for this reason we protect you.”
“Protect me?” Tatania said, shocked. “From the Church? You really think that there are prelates who would do such things?”
“Undoubtedly, Beati.” The knight said, his voice saddened. “You were familiar with Bishop Lamberton, were you not?”
“No.” She said, sudden anger rising in her breast. “That I refuse to believe.”
“Not he, Lady.” The Knight chuckled. “Bishop Lamberton was as faithful to our Lord God as any man in the Order could be. It was through his intervention that we survived the Papal Bull, which dissolved the Order. What I am about to tell you cannot leave this room unless by the consent of another Officer of the Templars. That I speak these words now breaks many oaths I have given—though it is necessary.”
Tatania became suddenly alert. She could sense her Divine connection had reacted, reading truth and faith in his words. She nodded her assent. “I swear to God that I shall not speak a word to any of what you say without your assent.”
She felt the oath settle over her as the holy light of the system accepted her words.
Seeing this, the Templar nodded, and began his tale.
“Two centuries ago, the first Augustinian Canon’s came into Scotland from the Holy Land. Then, they were not known by the rule of that good Saint who later Augustinians followed, but by another name. They were called the Order of Canons of the Holy Sepulchre. Much like the orders which followed, they were a Militant Order.”
“That order, in later years, became split by purpose. These would later become the Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ and the Temple of Solomon, and the Order of Knights of the Hospital of St John of Jerusalem. Templars, and Hospitallers, as we would later be called. Scotland quickly became a place where our forebears could build their diocese and continue their research into God’s plan. As years passed, they had spread their influence into the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge, further expanding their knowledge of the Lord, our God.”
“It was through these works, and contacts we made through the Saracens, that we discovered something which shook our faith to its foundation. It is the reason our Order was destroyed." The knight paused in his tale for a moment, shifting uncomfortably as though the memory of the event pained him even now. "When we learned God did not plan to create the tribulations of the Apocrypha, but to invoke a System, it was not believed.. By the time we learned it was truth, and what this System was, the enemy had already entered our world. They were already working to subvert the kingdoms of our world, preparing for their invasion.”
Tatania could tell everything the man said was true. Even so, she found it difficult to follow. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and sudden revelations caused her to shudder as she saw the true nature of these foes suddenly assailed her. They looked exactly like the Vampyres Liam had described fighting in Cadzow, only far more powerful.
She got the sense that they were not, in fact, Demons, but damned souls, bred to evolve in this way. She shuddered to think how Demons had encouraged these horrific transformations.
“You say that God had left evidence of his plans? How was this not common knowledge amongst the clergy?”
“Would you have believed a tale that contradicted a Biblical account? It would have been called a Heresy. They called it a heresy, and politics quickly meant that heresy became a conspiracy of heretics.”
“Heresy?” Tatania whispered, quickly connecting the dots. “But why would the French king…”
Sir William cut off her question with a raised hand. “Your pardon, Lady.”
“The French king, who was once a friend of our order, became one of us, and learned our secrets. He betrayed us, and God, seeking wealth instead of virtue. This is, at least, what we thought initially. We discovered through a victim of the creature that the King was being compelled. It was guilt that killed him but a few years later.”
“The last communique from Grandmaster De Molay to the Scottish Priory was to task us with uncovering all we could of the creatures we called Vampyres. Through our connections across Christendom, we uncovered more than we hoped.” He said this with a grim smile. “These were not the poor souls whose bodies lie racked with pain and foul humours which only rites can cure. No, these are demons manifest from hell who had taken the form of men. They twisted and corrupted the souls of those they captured, taking their form and thus their power.”
Tatania nodded. “I have seen it. I…” She paused, struggling to explain what she’d just seen. “God grants me the truth through visions. And I have healed the wounds done to the souls of the FitzGilberts. I have seen how these beasts can corrupt a soul.”
Sir William continued. “In the years to come, we discovered the creatures had spread their foul progeny through many courts of Europe, reaching as far as the Vatican itself. Though they were no stronger than a human, they could only be killed by fire or beheading. Now, however, it seems they are growing in strength rapidly as the System aids them, as it does us. The creature your husband's Squire slew is likely but one of many seeking to attach itself to our King. The monster at the centre of this nest is cunning. Its goal was ever to corrupt the Royalty and cause wars which would weaken mankind in the coming war.”
“Then what are we to do, Sir Knight?” She asked of William. “My ability to discern these monsters is limited to when I sing my healing, and surely, the enemy can sense my magics and avoid them. The only other way we have to detect them so far is Squire Lamberton, and he cannot be everywhere at once!”
The knight nodded. “True, lady. But if we know where the monster will strike, we can prepare a trap.”
Tatania felt her eyes bulge as the Knight’s true plan became clear. “The King!” she said, covering her mouth. “You would use the King to bait a trap?”
“The King is already in danger. He shall continue to be so until we discover the enemy in our midst.”
She swallowed hard, realizing that the Knight had far more experience in this than she. “What are we to do?”
“There are two things. The first is that we must establish you as the leader of the Church in Scotland. A Regent of sorts until the Kingdom of Heaven can be established. The Bishops and Cardinals are powerful men, but cannot unify the faithful better than a Living Saint might. Even the Pope himself cannot. Nor can they do what you can.”
She nodded, accepting it as the truth it was. Her powers and her connection to the divine—a force she felt even now guiding her—were something many clergy pretended to through ritual, not in reality.
“In order to effect this change, we need to establish you through the Parishes and amongst the Lords. From what I saw yesterday, the Lords are prepared to follow you. With my aid, the Parishes will too.”
“Overthrow the order of the church? Surely the Parishes will not stand against their Prelates!” Tatania said, shocked.
“We shall not ask them to. Rather, we inform them that your authority supersedes the Prelates.”
“I have authority higher than that of a Bishop?” Tatania asked, shocked that the Knight would even suggest such a thing.
“Bishops claim lineage from the apostles, that is not the same as a Saint. For you have reached a perfect union with God himself. The last true living saint was Christ himself. It is a state of unification with sanctity. None stand higher in the eyes of God on this world than you, and any others he might have elevated to Sainthood on our world until Christ himself returns.”
Tatania truly hadn’t realized the power her position entailed. “It cannot be!” She exclaimed, but through her divine connection, knew he spoke truth.
“God’s law is not that of Man, Beati. He has made sacred your person. When you were recognized by heaven, you were granted the power to command the faithful. They will either follow you or will be forced to petition the Pope in Avignon. By the time that happens, our petitions will have already reached him."
"What if he refuses to acknowledge me?" Tatania asked, concerned.
"If he then acts contrary to God’s will, we shall know the Church is once more in Schism. Few are those who would not recognize you once they see you, and those that do are either enemies of God or Sinners who serve only their own end. The former you shall leave to us. The Latter can be redeemed."
It did not sit well with Tatania, but she accepted that some of the clergy may have turned their face from God. A thought struck her. “And what of Balliol and the English?”
The knight gave her a knowing look. “You could resolve the succession yourself, but you choose not to, Lady.”
Seeing her frightened look, the knight explained. “Bishop Lamberton was a close friend, and privy to our secrets, I was to his, and through him, yours.”
He sighed, leaning back in the chair with a resigned look on his face. “In fact, I am quite familiar with many of the secrets of Christendom. It was the role of the Scottish Priory. In function and in form, we have continued to exist and operate much as we always did, only with a deal more secrecy.”
She nodded her understanding. Visions filled her mind in rapid succession, as she was forced to understand the truth of his words by seeing the men and women who had worked so diligently to ensure the Order remained a secret.
As the visions faded, she looked at the Prior. He smiled.
“You wish to know our second course of action?”
She nodded.
“We must ensure the King is safe, and the Regency remains secure.”
“How shall we do that?” Tatania asked.
“Faith, Lady. Faith. That, and a bodyguard of the most powerful Knights and Squires Scotland can gather.”
Tatania couldn’t help but laugh. “I agree. Faith alone may not be enough. As for the bodyguard, Liam and my husband are the most powerful, but we shall need them in the coming war.”
“Just so, Lady. If the King falls, so does the Kingdom. The surest way to lose the war is to allow the King to come to harm. Battles may be won or lost, but if we can keep hope alive, defeat becomes a choice.”
The old Knight’s words hardened her resolve. She would take up the mantle of the Beati and command the faithful. She would save the King.
Her mind made up, she looked directly into the Knights green eyes, focusing her intent upon the trials she knew lay ahead. Her voice took on a tone of command she hadn’t used since her Mother’s death. “Have letters sent to the Parishes, Sir William. In the meantime, we need to discuss this with my husband and Liam.
He nodded, hesitating. “Lady. About the Orde…”
She cut him off. “I do not know how to renounce the excommunication upon the Templars, or expunge the ruling of heresy. But it is done. No longer are the Poor-Fellow Soldiers of Christ and the Temple of Solomon. You have my oath upon it. I find the Order of the Temple Knights guiltless. I leave it to you to oversee the election of a Grandmaster.”
She glowed as the system accepted her pledge.
The Knight stood and bowed, showing his gratitude that the Beati had seen fit to codify her support of the Templars through an oath. “I shall see to the letters at once, Beati.”
As she rose, a knock came at the sturdy timber door. The voice from without sounding concerned. “Prior Middleton, there is a Knight here claiming to be Sir Peter McDonnell of Glasgow. He has his wife with him and is requesting to see the Beati urgently.”
Tatania stood, remembering the woman. “See them in, Sir Knight.” She commanded.
In moments, Tatania watched as Mistress McDonnell was into the room, carried in the arms of her giant husband. Tatania looked her over, though there was no visible sign of injury. Despite that, Mistress McDonnell’s composure was shattered. With reddened cheeks and a tear-streaked face, the woman was so beside herself she could not speak.
Setting his wife upon the chair had recently occupied, the Sir Peter stammered a hasty explanation.
“Lady. I found my Agnes like this as I returned to our rooms. She will not speak to me, and I fear that a madness has taken her. I beg you, Lady, if it is within your power, heal her.”
Tatania looked the knights wife over a moment. There was definitely no sign of a physical blockage in her throat, but the woman’s eyes bulged horribly as she tried to speak. Tatania hummed a tune she’d heard in the camp. It wasn’t a song a Lady should know, and Sir Middleton coughed into his hand to stifle a laugh as he heard it.
Reaching out with her magic, Tatania felt Mistress McDonnell’s soul was intact. No. It’s not her body that is under attack, it is her soul. Tatania thought.
Looking closer, she could see something dark and evil was wrapping itself around the woman’s throat, stifling her voice and breath. Mistress McDonnell was being slowly choked to death.
Desperate to help her, Tatania sang the words to the tune, all the while turning her magical senses to focus upon the darkness surrounding her patient’s neck. She willed it to break, but the dark form evaded her efforts somehow.
It felt like a lie she couldn’t quite catch—evasive and founded in half-truth. She tried again and saw a small sliver of the material break away, but it was not enough. If she didn’t free Agnes from this evil soon, she feared it would be too late.
Sensing something was deeply wrong in her approach, Tatania closed her eyes and changed her song. The lilting tone becoming a chant. As she sang, the meaning behind the words rang truer than they ever had before.
“Veni, Creator Spiritus, mentes tuorum visita imple superna gratia quae tu creasti pectora.”
Come, Holy Spirit, Creator, Come, from thy bright heavenly throne visit our souls fill them with thy heavenly grace.
Reaching out once more, she could feel the evil energy now for what it was. A compulsion of lies and fear that had settled upon Agnes like a net, burying itself into her soul energy.
Tatania suddenly felt her power surge as the voice of the Templars joined hers in song.
“Qui diceris paraclitus donum Dei altissi fons vivus ignis caritas et spiritalis unctio.”
Thou art that comfort from above, that God does by gift impart, the spring of life, the fire of love, and the inspiring spirit.
Suddenly, the part of Tatania’s spirit that was in contact with the evil mass bloomed into a spiritual flame, visible to all in the room. Around the neck of Agnes, a white, holy flame appeared and burned fiercely.
Sir Peter stepped forward, afraid that his wife’s life was in danger, but was held in check by the Brother-Knights.
Tatania, however, did not see them. Vision focused intently on what was happening before her, she could see the darkness that constrained Agnes evaporating into the ether. She willed more power into the flames she had created, burning the last of the darkness away. The flames, rather than burning the injured woman, healed Agnes’ soul, purging the tendrils of choking darkness from her until Agnes too joined the song, tears of joy flowing.
“Tu septiformis munere, dextrae Dei tu digitus. Tu rite promissum Patris, sermone dittans guttura.”
You of sevenfold grace, the right hand of God. You fulfil the promise of the Father with speech that enriches the speaker.
The chant ended, and Tatania’s spiritual vision retracted back into herself. As she opened her eyes, she saw a new vision appear before her.
Guided by the Archangel Gabriel, you have discovered a new spell:
Cleansing Flame (Level 1):
This spell allows its caster to envelop a target within a Cleansing Flame. Cleansing Flame causes damage to Undead and Demonic. It may also counter compulsion and domination magics. Cleansing Flame also provides some basic healing to both the soul and flesh of mortal creatures.
Damage: 4 Health per second.
Healing: 4 Health per second.
Cost: 40 Magic per second.
Range: 3 yards.
Tatania couldn’t help but smile when she saw the message. She could not feel the presence or guidance of the Archangel, but it reassured that the system confirmed his presence. She closed her eyes and gave a prayer of thanks.
Opening them once more, she saw that Mistress McDonnell was already on her feet and embracing her husband fiercely. Agnes clutched at her Giant of a man, much in the way Tatania had done to James whenever her world seemed to crumble. Tatania knew it was as much a salve for him, too.
She gave them a moment, warning Sir Middleton not to speak until they had a moment of peace.
When they broke their embrace, Tatania gave them as warm a smile as she could as she fought back tears. “Now, you might tell me what brought this on?”
Agnes nodded, taking the seat Sir William vacated. Sir Peter moved to stand behind her. “Yes, Lady, and thank you. I was so desperate to speak, but I couldn’t, and every time I tried, my throat got tighter and tighter until I couldn’t breathe.”
Tatania watched as the Mistress rubbed at her throat. “It happened when you’d left in such a hurry with Princess Margaret,” Agnes began. “I’d gone to fetch some food for the Lord FitzGilbert and Squire Glengarry when I saw the Lady saddling a horse with young Mistress Claire.”
Tatania frowned. “Why so?”
“They were leaving for Perth with Sir Gilbert and the young King.”
“And leaving the Lord of Cadzow behind? That makes no sense.” Tatania was shocked. There was no way the Lady would leave her husband. “What happened then?”
Agnes swallowed, fighting back emotions. “The Lady seemed in a daze, but Mistress Claire told me Sir Gilbert had commanded them. He said that the King required a nurse, and that the young Mistress would be a suitable travelling companion for the King during his grief.”
Tatania frowned. This did not sound like the knight she knew. Sir Gilbert was an exemplar of chivalry, and kind beyond measure. No champion of King Robert would have commanded a Lady to leave her injured husband, even if it were to aid the young King in his grief.
“Tell me, did you see Sir Gilbert?” Tatania asked urgently.
Agnes nodded. “I did, Lady. He became angry when I begged Lady FitzGilbert and Mistress Claire to stay. It was then that I found I could not protest. I could not even comfort the young mistress, who was wailing so. I must have been so overcome I lost my voice.”
Shame filled her words, and tears flowed once more. As she did, Sir Peter slipped his arms around his wife to render comfort. Tatania, having seen how protective the woman was of her, the young Lady of Cadzow could understand that despair.
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Seeking to ease any sense of guilt Mistress Agnes may feel, Tatania reached across to her, grasping the older woman’s trembling hands. “You were not at fault, Mistress McDonnell. You were the victim of a foul spell. One which affected your very soul, though it is healed now. Whoever, or whatever, infected you so. It seems also to have caused Sir Gilbert to act as he did. The only thing I wonder is: To what purpose did he act?”
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Liam sat until his legs hurt. He had to force himself not to fidget as the ache in his muscles spread from his thighs to his back.
The proceedings of the council were immensely boring, yet he managed to discover the purpose behind much of what was occurring. The lesser nobles had made speech after speech, with cousins, nephews, third uncles-in-law and a variety of their ilk who had no connection at all to King Robert’s passing. Each sought advantage, either for their family or self, and often in an attempt to secure political positions or land.
The greater nobles looked on, bored, but knowing that the airing of grievance and self-aggrandizement was necessary to keep their vassals in line. A few times, one of the Earls would sit forward, either to listen more closely to an enemy or friend, but few were their replies.
About an hour into the proceedings, Lord Douglas, lent over and explained to Liam that the Law regarding regency was well established. The Earl of Moray would take the role until King David reached his majority in five years.
Settling back in his chair to watch the squabbling of his peers, James soon dozed. Liam, who had followed the proceedings, thinking to learn as much as he could about the factions of the court, soon became bored when he realized many Lords were putting on as much of a performance as they could.
He wondered why they bothered, soon realizing that it was an attempt to curry favour through either support or claims of kinship.
It wasn’t long before Liam too ignored the speeches. Taking the time to go over the spells, abilities and skill sets he’d gained when he’d evolved his class, he started with the Spells.
Harbingers Defence (Passive)
Grants an automatic immunity to damage for the first 10 seconds of combat while in an enemy controlled zone. Combat cannot have been initiated by the Harbinger.
When combat is initiated by an enemy within a Friendly controlled zone, this spell converts into the active spell: “Hue and Cry”. Combat cannot have been initiated by the Harbinger.
Cost: 100 Magic
Duration: 3 Seconds.
Note: This Spell may evolve.
Liam was initially impressed with this spell, though when he looked closer, its true function eluded him. Granting total immunity would be a useful effect, but to use it, he’d need to be attacked, and be certain of the status of the territory.
Worse, when he tried to investigate the skill “Hue and Cry” nothing happened. He knew what the Hue and Cry was but did not know what it could mean in terms of a spell. Liam suspected it would alert others to the danger, but that would hardly aid him if attacked.
He moved on, certain that one of the other abilities would provide a greater boon.
Inspiring Roar.
Grants an immediate increase of 10% health, 10% stamina and 10% magic to all allies within the range of the spell.
Cost: 1000 Magic.
Range: 30 Yards.
Use: Once per day.
Note: This spell may evolve.
Were it not for the small size of the increase, Liam would have taken this spell before even opening the others. Ferniegair and the Tournament had shown him how quickly fatigue and injury could cause ones morale to waver. Increases to Health, Magic and Stamina were all equally crucial in battle.
But for 1000 magic? No.
Still, it was worth knowing that spells like this existed. He’d have to discover ways to focus on increasing each of his attributes, though he also knew well enough to be careful when he tried.
He decided to take this if nothing better presented itself and moved on.
Heroic Inspiration.
For 10 seconds following activation, any wound effect will be ignored. During this time, you are immune to disintegration, dismemberment and soul damage, and attributes cannot be negatively affected.
When Heroic Inspiration ends, all wounds taken will cause x2 damage. If the wounds taken during Heroic Inspiration cause damage greater than your health, you will die.
Cost: 500 Magic.
Range: Self.
Use: Once per week.
This was both excellent and terrifying at once. Liam did not know how damage operated in this new world. He thought that perhaps different weapons could cause different wounds. The damage the Dread Queen had done to him should have been something he could survive, especially considering his high health pool, but instead the wound she dealt had been lethal.
In Ferniegair, Liam had seen the Half-Jotun Orc take a blade through the heart and shrug it off as though it were nothing. But perhaps its heart was in a different place? It was something to think about.
Then there was healing to consider. He knew that Healing Ward and Regrowth could be enhanced with Heroic Inspiration. The problem was, if the damage was too great, he might die before the healing could take effect.
Liam considered taking this spell, too. He had fought powerful creatures before and knew that he’d only survived these by the slimmest of margins. This—if he remained careful—could tip the balance against whatever fate held for him next. The other thing to consider was the cost.
He had access to a significant magic pool, but 500 magic was a sizeable chunk of what he had available. The flame-vortex he’d created after the tournament had taken nearly all of his Magic pool, and that was nearly at 3000. If he needed to use that much in the future, this skill would make managing his magic difficult.
Liam pondered the decision for a moment as the speakers droned on about the proximity of their kinship to King David.
Eventually, he looked at the last skill. They seemed to have been becoming more and more powerful as he went. Perhaps this last skill would be even better than the others.
Second Wind.
This spell grants the recovery of 10% of your health, stamina and magic once per week. Activation occurs when any of these traits falls below 10%.
Magic Cost: None.
Range: Self.
Use: Once per week.
Note: This Spell may evolve.
Liam sighed. Second Wind was likely the most useful given the context of his experiences. If any one of them had gone bad, the additional health, stamina and magic would have been incredible, but he wasn’t sure it would be a wise option for the future. While it gave him a free recovery, it simply wasn't enough of an increase to truly matter. While it might have helped momentarily against the Dread Queen, he doubted it would have been enough to allow him to survive. His health had been draining too quickly to have any real chance to recover.
He took a moment to consider his options and then recalled an ability he’d gained while in the Dungeon. Smiling, he activated Prescient Intent.
The world around him glowed for a moment. No. The Floor glowed.
Looking down, Liam inspected the floor of the King's Hall beneath him, actively willing it to identify itself. As he did, a grin spread across his face.
A map had appeared in his vision, showing a view of the Kings Hall and its surrounds. The chamber where he was was marked, as was his location, and those people he could see were denoted by small circles of a light blue colour. His location seemed to be marked with a small green arrow, which turned as he looked around.
The immediate vicinity contained a few blank spaces, but as he willed the map to show more, sizeable areas of the town and countryside seemed to be unknown to him. He willed the map to show him its full extent, and he was suddenly shown a map of the lands he'd been through in the past. He saw the lands of Douglas far to the south, and east of them, those of the Carmichaels. West, he saw the Cunnynghames lands, both places he’d visited before with Colm. There was a thin strip of mapped land running north, likely showing him the route of his journey to Renton.
Different colours denoting villages and hamlets divided the map in places. When he looked closer, the region displayed the name of its Lord.
The system populated a great deal of information, but prevented him from seeing into regions where he had not traveled.
He shifted his view with a thought to Renton once more and brought up the information on the town.
Location:
Town: Renton. Owner: Prince David II. Status: Friendly.
Shire: Dunbartonshire. Owner: Prince David II. Status: Friendly.
Nation: Scotland. Owner: Prince David II. Status: Friendly.
World: Earth 777 (Tribulation in Progress) Owner: Yahweh: Friendly.
Sector: MW402 (3039 Tribulations in Progress) Owner: Traxiss: Friendly.
It looks like the Status of the region depends on the Owner’s affiliation. Liam closed the vision and looked further south at the Keep of Douglas. There, he saw that the Owner’s Status had changed. Douglas now showed as hostile and was owned by someone called Lord Comyn.
If I’d checked at Cadzow before I took the keep, I probably would have seen the Status as hostile.
Wanting to explore this more at his leisure, Liam dismissed the vision of the map from before him, and returned to his contemplation of abilities.
Looking over them once more, he noticed that the Harbingers Defence skill was now also glowing with a bright orange in his vision and the text had changed.
{Prescient Intent}
Harbingers Defence (Passive)
Grants an automatic immunity to damage for the first 10 seconds of combat while in an enemy controlled zone. Combat cannot have been initiated by the Harbinger.
When combat is initiated by an enemy within a Friendly controlled zone, this spell converts into the active spell: “Hue and Cry”. Combat cannot have been initiated by the Harbinger.
Cost: 100 Magic
Duration: 3 Seconds.
Note: This Spell may evolve.
Next, Liam looked over the skills. All four were combat oriented, and fairly self-explanatory. Having left Prescient Intent active, it directed him to accept takedown and countered strike, both skills which created opportunities based on his strength and dexterity to surprise and overcome opponents.
Countered Strike
Countered Strike: Level 1
A basic two handed technique used by intermediate swordsmen to defeat practiced foes, the Countered Strike enables the wielder to deflect an incoming attack and use the momentum of their blade to execute an attack. If cumulative Strength, Agility, and Wisdom - when added to the wielders weapons skill - is less than 75% that of your opponent, your Countered Strike will be discovered and may be blocked.
Warning: A failure may open your guard, leaving you at your opponent's mercy.
Cost: 10 Stamina (Reduces by 10% with each level of the ability attained.)
Note: This ability may evolve.
Liam was grateful for this. Not only was he more comfortable using the sword in a two-handed grip, but the ability to deflect an incoming strike and turn it to an attack would be excellent.
He'd need to use the skills against Aidan and Andrew when they sparred, wondering if the ability would work on more than one opponent at the same time.
The Takedown ability was far more interesting.
Takedown: Level 1
A using leverage and balance, throw the opponent to the ground. This skill will stun the opponent for three seconds. If cumulative Agility, Intelligence and Wisdom - when added to the wielders unarmed combat skill - is less than 75% that of your opponent, your Takedown will be discovered and may be prevented.
Warning: A failure may allow the opponent to stun you instead.
Cost: 10 Stamina (Reduces by 10% with each level of the ability attained.)
Note: This ability may evolve.
He selected the Skillsets and was about to look over his Attributes once more, when Lord Douglas' name was called to speak.
“Well, Lord Douglas. What say you? Will you speak?”
Liam saw his Lord nod once, before he stood, stretched his back, and strode forward, taking a place in the centre of the room.
“My Lords, we have talked long on matters that have little urgency, but that is the way of our land when we lack a King. In my view, the only matter of import for us, for all of us, is to discover who killed King Robert, and bring them to justice.”
A hush descended on the room as conversations paused so the nobles could better hear his words. “An enemy hiding amongst the army has murdered our King, and we have yet to begin an investigation. We put all efforts so far into the Tournament’s result and the Regency - necessary, yes, but a folly is our enemy remains among us. I say before we vote upon the Regent, we take oaths on the System and the Bible, which show that none present had a hand in the death of our King.”
Nods of agreement spread around the hall. The first to step forward in support was the Earl of Moray. “Aye! Let all here do so. If not, we cannot be certain that all who claim innocence are so.”
The Bishop Bane, who had dozed off, was awakened and now approached the Earl with a heavily bejewelled Bible. One by one, the nobles approached the priest, swearing the words, and being confirmed by a golden glow. When it came to Liam’s turn, he could see the Earl looking at him expectantly, but not giving any sign of judgement.
Kneeling, Liam too took the oath. “I, Liam Lamberton, Lord of Doune and Squire to Lord James Douglas of Douglas, swear to God that I took no part in the murder of King Robert, first of his name, of Scotland.”
He felt the oath take hold and rose to join the other Lords.
When the last of the Lords took the oath, matters turned to the vote. As Lord Douglas intimated to Liam, the nobles quickly settled the matter of the Regency.
Several pages, Aidan and Andrew went among the Scots collecting votes, which were read to the hall by the Lord Chamberlain.
There were only two candidates; the Earl of Moray and the Earl of Mar—the latter claim, though similar to Moray’s, was also the lesser because of the Earl of Mars’ mother being the younger aunt to King Robert.
Liam watched on as the Earl of Mar was the first to kneel. As he swore fealty to the King of Scotland, David the first, and the Regency of the Earl of Moray, the Earl invested Moray with the power to law and to land until the King came of age.
In order of rank, the other Earls, then Barons, did the same. Lord Douglas was the first amongst the Barons, and Liam, now the Lord of Doune, came soon after. Last of all came the Clan Lairds of the Highlands, whose wealth was not great in men or in numbers.
Once the Regent received the last of the oaths, he set about restructuring the Kingdom. He selected his own men as Chamberlain, Chancellor, and Constable, and created the Earl of Mar as Marshall. Douglas, now set aside as commander of the army, took the news with good grace, stepping back from the great Lords and returning to his seat.
Having taken his place next to Liam he spoke. "I would have been saddened, had not you bought me news of a way to return Robert to us. Now my purpose is greater than as a general."
Liam nodded his agreement. The news that there was a way to bring back the King was good, but it also meant his Knight would need to begin a quest for the Grail. A task that might take years - if it even could be found.
Looking around, Liam saw that not all were so content with the changes in the Kingdoms structure.
Across the hall, Bishop Bane, stripped of his rank as the head of the Army, had a very different reaction. He stood amongst the Lords, spluttering in protest, to little avail. His angry muttering was quickly subdued by a stern look from no less than eight Earls, including the Regent.
“I do not mean to supersede you in this, Lord Bishop, as I know that the Holy Wars of the Tribulations must come in time, but right now we are in a war against our own, and perhaps against our English foes. There shall be a time for you to lead, but it shall not be now.”
“Lord Douglas," The Regent continued, turning to look over at James. "Your duties to the realm may have changed, but I think you will enjoy your new role. Find who slew the King and see our Lord, King Robert restored if you can. I know not how you might achieve these goals, but if any can, it is you.” He glanced at Liam, encompassing him in the statement as well. "I will have writs created to ensure you are not impeded in your quest, and shall have the Bishop request all aid from the church in your task. Wherever it might take you."
“The Royal chambers have been left untouched since last night, except for the removal of the Kings’ person. See if you can discover anything about the murderer.”
Liam bowed to the newly created Regent of Scotland alongside Lord Douglas.
“The rest of you shall marshal whatever forces you have to this place. I do not know where Balliol and his men might strike, but I know his mind. He shall act soon, and when he does, we must be ready to end his villainy.”