Arch-Vicar General Barabus looked back over his shoulder into the room he’d just exited. The room shone brightly with the early morning sunlight. In the center of the room, at a plain oak table sat the High Priest Verigas. The man had just finished recanting a rather fabulous tale to Barabus and his associate, the Arch-Diocate Iskerus. Barabus shut the door behind him.
“Well, do you believe him?” Barabus asked the other as they stood in the narrow marble corridor outside the interview room.
The Arch-Diocate grimaced. “Unfortunately, I don’t have much choice. I did a Test of Truth upon him the entire time. He, at least, believes he is telling the truth.”
Barabus nodded solemnly in agreement, “I did the same.”
Somewhat sadly the Arch-Diocate went on, “Further, it also seems coincident with the Visions this brother Ferenas in Halfenfork reported.”
“The major war coming upon us? You read those reports too?”
The Arch-Diocate simply nodded sourly. “I hate living in such amusing times, Lord Barabus. Don’t you?”
“I could certainly do with a bit of retirement, if that’s what you mean.” The 63-year old Arch-Vicar General looked longingly up at the ceiling. “Such it appears, is not the will of our Master.”
“So, you are our resident military expert, Barabus, what do you suggest?”
The Arch-Vicar General paused for a moment, looking down at his feet. He sighed heavily. “I suppose we have no choice. One of our own brought this about; we must correct it.”
“Incidentally,” Iskerus interjected, “Verigas will have to answer for this demon summoning business, Archaedemon aside.”
“Of course, of course,” Barabus agreed, “but I feel part of his restitution should come in helping to clean up the mess.”
“Naturally,” Iskerus agreed.
“I will summon the Rod. I believe I can have the legions ready to sail for Freehold within a day. Short notice as it is, but we do pride ourselves on being ever vigilant.” Barabus shook his head sadly as he spoke.
“Sir Talarius?”
Barabus closed his eyes. “I was afraid you’d mention him.”
“I know you’re not overly fond of the man, but he is Knight Rampant. The highest of our knighted cadre, and one of our few demon slayers.”
“He has slain more than a few demons in his day,” Barabus admitted. “I just can’t say I approve of his attitude though.”
“He is efficient at what he does.”
“Yes,” Barabus agreed morosely.
“You agree then?”
“Yes, I suppose we do need him. Although you did not hear that from me.”
“Fine, then I’ll arrange to have him notified.”
“I suppose you’ll have him meet us in Hoggensforth? He’ll be bringing that horse of his.” Barabus observed.
“That’s probably best. I shall send a message to Talarius. And arrange for the necessary replacement for Verigas while he is with you.”
“Let the Rod be drawn.”
“Let the Will be done.”
“As Tiernon’s fight is won.” The last line was spoken in unison with upraised heads, as the two priests started to begin their preparations for a battle they must win.
Maelen stared eastwardly across the sea. His Sight, as ever, was true. Normal eyes could now reveal the craft on the horizon. It was gaining rapidly. Extremely rapidly. He’d alerted the ship’s master an hour ago. For once, a layman had taken him completely seriously with no question. The captain had obviously been expecting something similar.
Maelen cursed his luck to be on this ship. Luck, no, he cursed fate. He knew the only luck was that which he made for himself. Try as he might, his choices were constrained. His Sight limiting him in more ways than laymen could imagine. Perhaps fortunately, he wasn’t truly a great Seer; that would be a curse.
He’d had trepidation as soon as he’d spotted the vessel in the harbor. Something definitely amiss about it. While there were multiple routes to his arranged meeting with this sorcerer Johen wanted him to speak with, he had, unfortunately, Seen himself in Hoggensforth in the very near future, and this ship was the only way to get there on schedule. He could have ignored the Seeing, but all the other possibilities his limited Sight revealed to him were much less appealing.
He’d overheard the captain talking about pirates to the other four passengers. Pirates was close, but not accurate. Perhaps, avenging police force might be a better word, or words. Captain Asmeth was a smuggler, Maelen was nearly positive. While as far as he could determine, Asmeth wasn’t actually wanted in Gizzor Del, like anyone ever was, nor was he wanted in Hoggensforth; the man did have enemies.
