Payon’s mastery of metal was on display as the four young knights crept into the temple, the joints of their plated armor moving fluidly and smoothly. Their leather boots were iron-capped, and their steps pressed silently across the stone tiles.

Callum led the group, using a mixture of waves and hand gestures. They hadn’t worked out a real communication system, but Callum managed to impart most of what he meant naturally.

The thick, foggy cover that clouded most of the land for almost the entire winter shadowed their approach, and when they passed through the sharp arch of a doorway into the temple proper, they found themselves in darkness among the brick corridors.

“Callum,” Erin murmured. “I can’t see a thing in here.”

“Walk along the wall,” he whispered back.

“This is silly. Can’t we light a torch or something,” Radic boomed. "We're going to run into each other."

“Quiet down,” Callum hissed. “Are you trying to alert people we're here?”

“I’m trying to see,” Radic replied, only slightly quieter than before. "I'm not an owl."

“Just shush up. You can light a torch once we confirm there’s no one around.”

“Listen to him, Radic,” Clay said. “What if there are wargs in here?”

“Fine. But let’s make this quick.”

Grumbling to himself at the back, Radic took up the rear, and the small group pressed deeper into the temple grounds.

Courtyards dotted the structure, allowing some light to pierce through the outer windows, but the light barely illuminated their path.

Perhaps an hour passed as they carefully traced the building, finding no signs of any life.

“Come on, there’s no one here,” Radic said. "Let's get some light going."

“Fine, you can light a torch,” Callum succumbed. He wasn’t quite comfortable with the idea yet, but he relented since they hadn’t seen any signs of life within the temple.

Nervously scanning their surroundings, the group waited as Radic used flints to light some oily rags, which he used to light the torches.

“There we go. Finally, some light,” he said, passing them around. “Now, let’s find the loot. And get out of here.”

“Alright, you happy now? Can we continue?”

“Sure am,” Radic said, waving the flaming torch. “Okay, which way?”

“We may as well split up now. I doubt we’ll find any valuables like precious metals and such. Things like that have likely been looted by the clans already. But based on what Venjimin said, they already kicked out all the academics. So, chances are they didn’t take much interest in knowledge. Look for books, maps, and scrolls. Take anything that might have use and value if added to our libraries. Do you get it?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Radic said. “We hear you. Loot the good shit if you can find it. Simple enough.”

“So, we’re actually all going off alone?” Clay said.

“It’ll be fine, Clay. We’ve walked up and down this place and haven’t spotted a soul,” Callum reassured.

“He does kind of have a point, though,” Erin said. “We should at least have a gathering point in case something happens.”

“Okay. The first courtyard we walked past when entering. If we hear or see anything, gather there. But if it’s not safe, go straight to the forest and wait.”

“Got it,” Radic said, already walking away.

“I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

“It’ll be fine, Clay. You’re more likely to get spooked from your shadow than seeing anybody here.”

“Right,” Clay nodded and swallowed.

***

Erin crept through the shadowy corridor with care, awkwardly struggling to hold her crossbow up while gripping the torch. She had the sword at her side if needed, but she was far from skilled with it like Callum was.

Come on, loot. Where are you? This place gives me the creeps.

Podiums were knocked over, and shelves were left bare in the rummaged rooms she walked through. She even spotted the wall marks where paintings had hung. The thought that they had come all this way to walk through a barren temple, looted of all its goods, was starting to settle on her.

“Damn it, there has to be something of value around here,” she murmured beneath her breath as she walked.

“Not a step further,” growled a gruff voice as she entered a room, and a second later, Erin felt the cold tip of a blade press against her back.

Erin froze. The voice had come from behind, but she couldn’t see the man threatening her.

“Put it down slowly.”

“Okay, I’m putting it down,” Erin said, lowering to place the crossbow on the ground.

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

“Good, now step away.”

“Stepping away,” Erin said.

“Get the crossbow, Durdle,” the man hissed.

An old, balding man with a little white fuzz beside his ears ran out and collected the crossbow.

“Now, don’t move a muscle. Just stay where you are. Or I might have to get all stabby on you.”

“I’m not moving. Just tell me, what do you want?”

“Tell YOU what WE want? You’re the one that came barging in here. What are you and your companions looking for around here?”

They do not look good; they know about the others.

“We thought this place was abandoned, okay? That’s all. Just a place to settle down. No need for a fight.”

“Yeah, right. We’d believe a bunch of kids dressed in metal armor are looking to squat in the temple. Now tell me what you’re doing here, Imperial.”

“I told–”

The blade poked her back between the armor plates.

“Okay, okay. We’re looking for knowledge. Books, maps, you name it.”

“Who sent you,” the old man interjected, his voice suddenly twisting with urgency.

“No one. We’ve come on our own.”

“Lies. Tell us now. Who is after the knowledge in this temple? The clans didn’t seem to care. They carried out all the gold and silver and left, and I know you Imperials have left the Frontier, for the most part, at least. So, who is it?”

A muffled cry sounded from outside the room, and the man turned, pulling his blade away from Erin.

“Dangis, is that you?”

“Waaah!”

“Dangis!” he shouted.

A figure flew across the room, and Radic and Callum charged in after, knocking the man to the ground with a swift blow.

“Don’t step an inch closer,” yelled the old man across the room, pointing Erin’s crossbow at them. “I’ll shoot.”

“Erin,” Radic growled.

“Sorry.”

“We’re not your enemy,” Callum said, holding his sword above his head. “And we didn’t kill any of your people. We can talk this out.”

The old man looked down at the groaning bodies withering on the ground, confirming what Callum said.

“Look, we just came for the books. Our leader wants to protect the knowledge in this place. Make sure it doesn’t fall into the hands of the wargs.”

“You're too late for that,” the man sighed. “They’ve already taken most of it.”

“Tell me, what happened here?”

“What does it look like? After the clans took everything of value and left, the wargs invaded. When they came, they took everything else. We managed to hide a bit down in the cellar, but it's only a token amount of what this great temple once held.”

“So, you’re a priest then?”

“Yes, or at least I was. Though I fear those days are gone and left behind.”

“You don’t happen to know a man named Venjimin, do you?”

“Venjimin, you know that old bastard?”

“Yeah,” Callum nodded. “He works for my—king,” Callum said, still feeling a little strange calling the Imperator king.

“King?” The old man tilted. “You’re an Imperial, aren’t you? Has that old bastard Venjmin moved into the Imperium?”

“No,” Callum shook. “We’re building something new. A kingdom in the Frontier. Both barbarians and Imperials alike are welcome. The knowledge held here could be valuable. We wanted to bring it back. Use it to help us forge something bigger and better.”

“If what he says is true,” another younger man said, stepping out from further in the room. “Then maybe we have a future, Durdle? We don’t have to die here.”

“Why should we trust you,” Durdle said, ignoring the young man.

“What other options do you have? I’m sure the wargs will return once they finish the clans. What then? Are you going to bow to them? Become slaves?”

“Durdle, listen to him. I don’t want to be a warg’s slave.”

“Shut it, child. What protections can you offer us?”

“Look, we’re always in need of learned people in Winterclaw. It’s not within my power to promise anything, but I am confident that If you come back with us, there will be positions for men of your standing. Good ones, too. The kind that comes with a home and income.”

“Hey, hey, hey! Everyone!” Clay came shouting down the hall. “Put your torches out. I saw something.”

“Slow down, Clay,” Callum barked, turning to the armored boy as he ran into the room panting. “Speak slowly and clearly. What’s going on?”

“Figures. Lots of them. Coming. Like men, but running on all fours.”

“Wargs,” Durdle said. “Here, this way,” he added, turning and waving for them to follow. “Put the torches out and follow.”

“Do as he says,” Callum commanded.

“We’ll have to take refuge in the cellar again. Come this way.”

“How could they have found us?” Callum said. “I thought they left?”

“They still patrol the area,” Durdle said as he hurriedly led them down stone stairs. “They probably saw your torches.”

“Torches, you say?” Erin glared at Radic.

“What? How was I supposed to know?”

“This way,” Durdle pointed.

Rubble, rock, and toppled bookshelves blocked the path, but Durdle led them through slender gaps until they reached a heavy, wooden door.

“In here,” he said, slowly opening it and standing aside as everyone entered. “Is everyone accounted for?”

“Yeah,” Dangis, one of the younger men, said, checking on the others they had helped up and down the stairs. “We’ve seen better days, though,” he added, glaring at Callum and Radic.

“Sorry about that,” Callum said.

“It’s fine,” Durdle waved. “At least we’re alive. And as shitty as it might seem, probably safe. Despite numerous searches of the temple, they haven’t managed to find this place yet. If it is only a small party, we should be fine.”

“So what now?” One of the men said. “What’s the plan after the wargs leave?”

“How many of you are down here?” Callum asked.

“Me and two other priests and fifteen students,” Durdle said. “All of which can read and write.”

Callum turned to the others with a grin. “Come with us back to Winterclaw. You’re exactly the kind of people we need.”

“So, are you telling us there’s no loot?” Radic asked.

“We have some books. Unfortunately, it isn’t much,” Durdle sighed. "Most of everything has already been looted."

“Stop being so short-sighted. We’ve just picked up almost twenty educated men who can read and write. We’re short on scribes and educators. This is as good a treasure as any book.”

“He’s right,” Erin nodded. “If we can get them back alive, that is.”

The sound of footsteps above their heads immediately silenced everyone, their gazes turning to the ceiling in darkness.

Durdle held a finger to his lips, not that anybody could see the gesture.

Escape was not looking so easy.

**Imperator**

Mark had retreated back to his room shortly after the meeting, his mind swimming with all kinds of thoughts.

He had been taken off guard but wasn’t about to turn down the offer. This was their opportunity.

Furthermore, Yelinda’s description of the sabretooth warriors instilled hope in him. They were more than just elites. They were barbarian elites. No matter how much he tried to bring his people together, there were still bridges to gab, and it was difficult training an army when most of his skilled fighters were Imperials that clung to their old way of thinking.

These warriors promised something new. Truly elite warriors that could train his army. Up until now, Trumus had been one of the few skilled warriors and their main trainer for barbarians, and stemming his influence had been on Mark’s mind for a long time. In fact, there really wasn’t anything to think about. If Yelinda’s ambitions were honest, then this was an alliance Mark couldn’t turn up.

She had given him a week to decide; during that time, she would call up the other Western clans and sabretooth warriors. They would wed in front of the elites of the Western lands, and on their wedding day, they would request that the clans unite and provide their assistance in battling back the wargs.

The young priestess had seemingly put a lot of thought into the plan. It was customary to ask for gifts during weddings, and the grander the wedding, the grander the gifts. If there was ever a time they could convince the warriors to march east with them, this would be it.

Mark packed his things, preparing for a quick flight back to Winterclaw. Time couldn’t be wasted, and he would ensure everything was in order before returning to the temple.

I always thought I’d have more time to think about it.

Mark sighed and stuffed the last of his things into a pack. He almost felt confident in defeating his enemies now.

"A short back and forth and then we cement this thing," he murmured as he straighened to leave.

"It's time to build an army."