When Kevlin and Leander exited Sentinel Tower, Leander said, "Since you're not scheduled for guard duty until tomorrow, I'll give you a tour of our citadel."
"Lead on." Kevlin had never been inside a Pallian citadel and was eager to see it. Besides, after talking about rogue fire and Sigrun, he preferred staying in Leander's company as long as possible.
They crossed the central palace courtyard, rounded the corner of the Donarr Castle, and followed the Iron Spoke toward the inner city wall. The citadel sat on the south side of the road behind a screen of mature oak trees.
It looked like a cross between a castle and a church, and was flanked by a high wall of ancient stone. They passed through the huge, ironbound main doors into a vaulted room. It was illuminated by tall, stained-glass windows situated between heavy support columns, rearing almost all the way to the ceiling.
Leander pointed out several Stalwarts to their left, who attended walk-in patients daily. To the right, more Stalwarts were seated around heavy tables piled with books.
Within seconds, word spread of Leander's arrival, and Stalwarts dropped what they were doing and rushed to greet him. Leander seemed to shed years, and beamed like a father returning to beloved children. Students offered to bring him food, hot cloths for his face, and clean clothes. They seemed ready to burst with excitement.
Leander politely refused every offer and said, "If studies are so boring today that you feel driven to find excuses to leave them, then come to the practice field."
The students cheered and rushed out a large rear door. Several older Stalwarts, who had lingered at the rear of the crowd, took advantage of the lull to greet Leander more calmly.
"Styra Leander," one of them said, "I'm happy for your safe return, but I did have plans for those students today."
Leander clapped the man on the shoulder. "I know. You can have them tomorrow. Today, we hold assembly."
That startled the man, but he only said, "I'll summon the brethren." He led the other teachers out a small door on the south side of the room.
Leander headed after the students, with Kevlin in tow.
"What is that they were all calling you?" Kevlin asked.
"Styra is an honorific referring to my title. As leader of the Pallian order, I am the Styrskena, or guide."
"Sorry, I didn't know to call you that."
Leander chuckled. "No, my boy. It's used only in the citadel, or among the Pallians. Anywhere else, it's not appropriate."
"But it's what you are, isn't it."
"I am a Hammer Stalwart. That is enough most days."
Leander led him through a set of wooden doors to a wide hallway that ran a surprising distance. Kevlin realized they must have passed through the wall behind the main building. He had assumed the church-fort was the heart of the citadel, but it turned out to be only the figurehead.
The citadel complex proved extensive, with four long granite buildings enclosed by the high wall, all facing a central field of close-cropped, dense grass.
When they emerged into the noon sunlight, fourscore Stalwarts stood in orderly ranks facing them. The Stalwarts raised their war hammers in unison and shouted, "Styra Leander, welcome home!"
Leander raised both hands in blessing. "Thank you, my friends. May your hammers be swift and your hearts wise."
"Now," he added with a wide smile. "Show me what you have learned in my absence."
The Stalwarts split into pairs for sparring. They fought with skill to match their enthusiasm. More than one ended up injured in their mock battles. The partners of the injured dropped their hammers and lay glowing hands of healing onto their injured companions.
An extremely stocky fellow with a shaved head joined Kevlin and Leander. He was a little shorter than average but his shoulders strained the limits of his jacket, and his thighs were as thick around as Kevlin's waist. He greeted Leander heartily, and his blue eyes twinkled with suppressed laughter.
Leander clasped hands warmly with the powerful Stalwart. "Kevlin, this is Leda Basak, my second-in-command and Ledskena of the citadel. He runs things while I'm away."
Kevlin clasped hands with Basak. Power radiated through the man's grip. Kevlin was glad they were meeting as friends. He had no doubt Basak could throw him over the wall if he wanted to.
"Pleasure to meet you," Basak said with a deep but surprisingly gentle voice.
Leander said, "Basak, why don't you spar with Kevlin? He's getting a little rusty."
"Gladly." Basak snapped his fingers, and a war hammer popped into his hand.
"I'm not that rusty," Kevlin protested out of habit, but he welcomed the chance to spar with the man.
"I watched you spar with your brothers," Leander said. "You need it."
"I thought your hammer was the only one that did that reappearing trick," Kevlin said.
"I cheated a little."
Kevlin drew his sword and faced off with Basak, eager to test the man's skills, but a little nervous too. He'd seen Leander fight. The old Stalwart was unmatched in battle. Even Jerrik and Drystan combined had fallen behind in the fighting.
When Leander had learned the true name of Tanathos and realized he was the ancient enemy who had murdered his family, his rage had been terrifying. He'd single-handedly destroyed a force of attacking Makrasha. He'd struck them down with such ferocity that the monsters had fought each other to escape his deadly hammer.
They began slowly to warm up and feel out each other's skills. Kevlin was eager to test the new forms he'd been practicing with his swordbrothers. After the first moment, Basak attacked with more intensity. Kevlin grinned and his body tingled with energy as his focus centered on the battle. Within seconds, he and Basak were dueling without reservation.
Basak wielded the heavy hammer easily, and his blows carried tremendous power. Kevlin moved fast, flowing around the stocky fellow, focusing on deflecting the blows just wide enough to slip around them.
His world contracted as it always did when he fought with the sword until nothing existed but him and his opponent. Their weapons rang again and again as they shifted across the width of the field, each seeking an opening to touch the other. Kevlin's muscles burned with the thrill of battle and the familiar ache from the shock of absorbing Basak's hammer on his blade. The air smelled of dust and crushed grass.
Then Kevlin moved just a bit too slow. His feet slipped out of position, and he caught the full weight of a hammer strike on his sword. The blow slammed his sword back against his chest, and he felt a hot flash of pain as his own blade bit into his shoulder.
He stumbled and dropped the weapon. His wrist throbbed from being twisted back so hard.
Basak dropped his hammer and it disappeared. "Sorry, Kevlin. I thought you'd catch that one."
"So did I."
"May I?" Basak extended his hands.
"Of course."
Only when the amulet captured Basak's healing power and poured it into Kevlin did he realize his mistake. He stumbled away from Basak's hand, but it was already too late.
"What's the matter?" Basak asked.
Kevlin ignored him. Cold fear shivered down his spine as he changed the magic and desperately began forming his psychic shields. A rising sense of euphoria swept through him with the small amount of magic. It was quickly replaced by the desperate craving for more, and he had to fight to keep from leaping at Basak to beat more out of him.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Maybe if he fell and pretended to be hurt, Basak might try to heal him again? Kevlin dropped to his knees, but bit his lip to swallow the words bubbling in his throat that would beg for power. For a second he wavered, uncertain why he was resisting. Why was it a bad thing to have magic? He deserved it after all.
No, that wasn't right. He needed control. Kevlin panted as he fought to center his thoughts and remember who he was. His mental image of himself standing atop his fortified defenses began to waver, and laughter rippled up his throat.
For a moment he hung there, teetering on the brink, barely holding at bay the urge to give in to the craving. Kevlin growled as he re-formed his wavering defenses and held to the image as a bulwark against the Trembling Madness.
Slowly the madness subsided, and Kevlin's knotted muscles began to relax. Only then did he realize he'd clenched his fists so hard, his nails had torn through the skin.
Leander stood next to Basak, watching him. Other Stalwarts had approached, curious.
Kevlin said, "Sorry about that. It's just . . ."
He couldn't finish. The magic rebelled against him and slammed into his mental shields. The shock rattled him and he lost his balance, falling to one knee. Without his recent training, his shields never would have survived the assault. They wavered, but held, and he reinforced the shields, summoning a mental army to man the walls and repel the assaulting hordes.
The unruly magic drove against his mental defenses again and again. Each time, Kevlin's shields weakened just a little, until he barely held on. He expected Leander to step in and support him, but no help came and he couldn't spare energy to call for help.
You will obey me, he shouted in his mind at the boiling magic, and he led a counterattack to sweep the walls of his mind clear. That final wave broke and retreated.
The magic then settled into a calm trickle of power flowing through him like a second bloodstream. Where it had been tearing at his innards in its wild attempts to break free of his control, now it healed and soothed.
Kevlin reinforced his shields further and directed the magic against his injured shoulder and wrist. He lacked the knowledge to actively heal it, but the little power available to him bonded to those injured areas and the pain eased.
Kevlin blew out a breath and then climbed to his feet. He felt exhausted, as if he'd really fought a desperate battle. More Stalwarts had gathered, and Leander stood close beside him. The old man offered a steadying hand.
"Are you all right?" Leander asked.
"I think so."
"Very good." Leander added to the assembled Stalwarts, "My friends, what you witnessed here is a delicate matter, one that has my personal attention. I ask you all to keep it in confidence and trust me to deal with it."
Every Stalwart agreed, and many looked relieved. Basak said, "Kevlin, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."
"It's all right. It's not your fault."
"Can I heal you?" Basak asked.
The pain had lessened, but not disappeared. His wrist ached, and he found a deep cut in his shoulder when he inspected it.
"I should have been wearing my armor," he said with a grimace.
He didn't want to remove the amulet, didn't want anyone else to know about it, but he also didn't want to keep bleeding. Then he had a thought. When Tia Khoa had taught him how to change the magic captured by the amulet and make it his, it had shown him something else.
"Just a minute." He closed his eyes, took a chance, and reached out with a thought to touch Tia Khoa. He was pretty sure Harafin wouldn't approve, but he was the bearer after all, wasn't he?
He connected with the stone, and its power rose through him like the rising tide. It filled him with peace and confidence.
Kevlin threw out the thought, How do I let him heal me?
An idea flashed into Kevlin's mind, and in a second he understood. Thank you.
The stone's presence withdrew. Kevlin opened his eyes and grinned. "Got it."
Leander frowned. "I think we need to talk. Soon."
"How about over lunch?" Kevlin realized he was famished.
With a tiny trickle of magic, he extended feelers of thought to the amulet and, using the knowledge just imparted from Tia Khoa, he disabled its power.
"You can heal me now."
Basak hesitated for a second before laying hands on Kevlin. Healing magic flowed through Kevlin, drove away exhaustion, and knit his wounds.
He'd never controlled magic while at the same time getting healed by another's power. How did the two powers not collide? How did Basak not sense his power? Kevlin watched Basak, but the stocky Stalwart made no outward sign that he recognized the power in Kevlin.
Basak completed his ministration a moment later. "You're sound."
"Physically at least," Kevlin said with a wry grin.
"Call the Assembly," Leander said.
"At once, my Styra." Basak headed for a small door at the base of a squat tower, and a moment later a brass bell tolled three times.
"How did you do that?" Leander asked.
"It's kind of complicated."
"We'll talk about it later, then. Are you protected now?"
Kevlin reached out with a trickle of magic and re-engaged the amulet's powers. "Yes."
"Come." Leander led the way into one of the other long buildings. The Stalwarts who were still milling about the practice yard all fell in behind.
Only then did Kevlin realize the danger of what he had done. If he had released all the magic while the amulet was disabled, he might never have been able to enable it again. Why had Tia Khoa shown him how to do it?
They descended two levels below the citadel and entered a cavernous room. Void of any furnishings, it was sheathed with wood paneling painted pearly white. Leander climbed three steps onto a platform that ran the length of one side of the room, and motioned Kevlin to follow. Basak joined them a moment later.
He clapped Kevlin on the shoulder. "That was an excellent match."
"It would've been better if I'd won."
Basak smiled. "Never going to happen."
That guaranteed he'd have to try again.
While they talked, Stalwarts filed into the room. They all dressed in simple, unbleached woolen clothing, although the styles varied. They ranged in age from youths to ancients who could barely walk. A low murmur of many whispered conversations echoed through the huge room as they awaited Leander.
When more than a hundred people filled the room, Leander held up his hand. Silence fell over the crowd. "It is good to be home."
Everyone beamed in response, every face expressing love for their leader. Kevlin was moved by the depth of their devotion to the old man.
"Dire times are upon us," Leander continued. "Times in which we will be called upon to exercise the tenets of our faith. As some of you may have already heard, we suspect a Shadeleech is lurking in the greater Tamera region."
Most of the Stalwarts looked surprised, and excited murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"We suspect it may be Tanathos, the same Shadeleech we battled recently in Hallvarr." Leander paused and his face turned hard. "The same man who murdered my family a century ago."
Silence gripped the crowd, and tears glistened in many eyes. The soft creaking of hands adjusting grips on hammers sounded loud in the silence.
"Today the hunt begins," Leander declared.
A hundred hammers rose in unison and the crowd shouted their willingness to follow.
"The time has come to take hammer to hand," he cried over the tumult, answered by another cheer.
"You must be the shield against the darkness and the hammer of justice."
Every Stalwart responded in unison, "We will."
Leander raised both hands in blessing and chanted solemnly, "May the Light grant forgiveness to those who repent." As he spoke, his hands began to glow softly with a pure, white light.
"We offer all the opportunity to choose," the crowd answered together. They raised their left arms, palms forward, hands glowing.
"May we bring mercy to those in need."
"We pledge our gift," the chant rose in strength, and with it the intensity of the light. It reflected off their faces and the walls and filled the room with pure white brilliance.
"May we bring justice to those who deserve it," Leander chanted.
"We pledge our hammers," they cried. The light grew around them until the room shone like noonday.
"May we be ever loyal to the Creator and the Light."
"We pledge our lives!" The shout reverberated through the hall and seemed to be reflected and amplified by the light.
Leander snapped his fingers and his war hammer appeared in his right hand. Hammers were raised throughout the room in unison. Kevlin alone stood as an outside witness to the amazing spectacle.
As one, every Stalwart chanted in a great swelling chorus.
"Light."
"Mercy."
"Justice."
With every word, the light swelled until Kevlin had to shield his eyes from it. Echoes reverberated through the chamber and through Kevlin's soul. The light flooded through him, rippling across his skin with tangible strength. It swept him away, lifting him with the strength of faith and determination of these people.
As he embraced the moment, he followed a sudden prompting and placed a hand on Leander's shoulder. In that instant, Leander's hammer burst into brilliant blue fire, and magic poured into Kevlin.
The amulet captured it, and he changed it. Then he reached out with his mind and connected with the essence of Tia Khoa. It rose to occupy a tiny corner of his mind, and power surged through him with the first pulse of the rhythm of life.
A vast strength filled him, so intense it nearly lifted him from his feet. It filled his soul with peace, and colored his vision with a light blue haze.
Every Stalwart glowed, surrounded by the light of their powers. Kevlin stared in wonder at the pulsing living power within each Stalwart.
They were glorious.
So lost was he in the vision that he hardly noticed as he drew his own sword and held it high. The echoes from the chant were dying down, and the light of their extended hands dimmed as they lowered them. The movement of his sword drew every eye as he raised it high.
With his mind floating in Tia Khoa's power, he released a flow of energy into his sword and whispered a single word.
"Fire."
Blue flames pulsed into existence along the blade of his sword in a mirror image of the fire still burning around Leander's hammer.
Kevlin spoke into the silence, words that came unbidden to his mind. "The time of the choosing is at hand. The inner vessel must be purged or none will withstand the coming conflict."
Leander shouted, "Time to cleanse the inner vessel!"
The gathered Stalwarts raised their hammers again and shouted, "Cleanse the inner vessel."
It is well. The thought drifted through Kevlin's mind softly, and yet so powerful that it nearly drove him to his knees.
He dropped his sword arm and the flames winked out. Tia Khoa faded from his mind. Leander released his hammer and it vanished. The assembled Stalwarts lowered their hammers and the spell that had wrapped them all faded to memory.
The focused unity of the room dissolved, and Stalwarts chatted among themselves. Kevlin caught snatches of conversation. Many discussed their desire to help Leander bring his family's murderer to justice. Others cast curious looks at Kevlin and discussed his surprise participation in the assembly.
Apparently it was highly unusual for someone not of their order to attend, let alone speak. Many times, he heard the phrase, "Cleanse the inner vessel."
Although he had said it first and it had felt so right at the time, he wondered now what it meant. He doubted it was a call for everyone to volunteer for extra duties in the kitchens.
"That was unexpected," Leander said with a smile.
"I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me."
"It's all right, my friend," Leander said. "Unexpected, yes, but the more I think on it, the more I realize it was necessary."
As the gathered Stalwarts drifted from the assembly hall. Leander added, "I've been pondering this very point for days. I'm convinced you were right."
He stared across the room and his voice grew deadly serious. "A time of cleansing is indeed upon us."