The Cor Chronicles: Volume 02 - Fire and Steel (17 page)

Aidan approached forty, and he worked very hard not think about the inconvenience of aging. In fact, he spent no small about of coin on various treatments to help him ignore it such as brown dyes for his graying hair and creams from Tigol to smooth his skin, especially around his deep, brown eyes. In actuality, he’d risen to his great position with extraordinary quickness, partially thanks to the wealth he had inherited upon the death of his father, a somewhat wealthy merchant, but also due to his sharp intellect. Aidan knew how people worked, how they thought and how they felt. He assumed it was a gift he’d inherited from his father; his father used it in business dealings. Aidan used it to become Lord of Byrverus.

Queen Erella had already been on the throne for decades when Aidan was born, of course, so it was through no fault of his own that he had plateaued ten years ago. It was acceptable; the view from on high was spectacular, and it wouldn’t be humble in the eyes of Garod to complain about such things. Like all children of the Shining West, Aidan had been taught that one must always accept one’s position with contentment, but that didn’t mean he should not plan for the future. He was destined to be King of Aquis, and for ten years he had never denied a favor to a lesser priest. Aidan would one day need their support, for even Queen Erella’s grace would eventually end.

The fat priest sat debating silently on whether to eat more duck or begin his dessert course, finally deciding to start dessert. After all, to eat more duck and then start dessert would be gluttonous and certainly not pious. Aidan had just begun some sort of cheesy cream pie when the royal messenger arrived carrying a dispatch with the queen’s seal in purple wax. He barely acknowledged the man’s presence, motioning to an empty place to his right while he ate; the man left the rolled parchment, bowed and left. Aidan politely ignored it while eating, as one ignores his own stench, with the assumption that Queen Erella did not have immediate need of him.

Even after he finished, he refused to touch the scroll as he leaned back in a great oak chair, throne like in its size and the intricacy of its woodwork. Aidan had learned long ago that reading such things was bad for the digestion, and he instead folded his hands over the brown robes covering his great girth. He allowed his eyes to close and even snored lightly, as he always did, while the lowly acolytes cleared the table. He started awake when the lack of sound indicated that they were finished.

Still refusing to break the seal, Aidan took the parchment in a sweaty hand, crushing and staining the roll as he did so, and slowly orbited the table to head for his cell. All of the priests and acolytes residing in the main temple complex had identical cells, fifteen feet square, which they were allowed to modestly make their own. Of course, Aidan was Lord of Byrverus, and a big lord at that, so he’d had three walls removed to allow himself a bit more room to breathe. And as the Lord of Byrverus must not smell unclean, he had installed a comfortably sized marble bath, which he now had filled with steaming water and rose and lilac petals. The queen’s message sat forgotten as he relaxed and again dozed off.

The cooling bathwater roused Aidan, and he finally lifted his massive bulk from the water, careful so as not to lose his footing on the slick marble. The drying of his body required a fair amount of time and many soft towels, after which he powdered the nooks and folds of his body extensively. He dabbed a sickly sweet smelling perfume from a beveled glass vial onto his skin and pulled a loose fitting brown robe over his head. Sighing heavily, he finally picked up the parchment roll and broke the queen’s seal.

The message was but two simple lines requiring him to be present in the royal hall exactly two hours after sunrise. Aidan looked at it dumbly and then read it again, certain that there was much more to be read and that he’d merely missed it all. However, the scrolling script did not change, and Aidan dropped it on a table in quiet disgust. Queen Erella had a task for him or perhaps a favor to ask, and she chose not to ask it privately. That meant one simple thing - he would not like it, and she made sure that he could not refuse, for he could not refuse his Queen, his High Priestess in public. He knew he was in a trap from which there was no escape.

Aidan slept fitfully, plagued by nightmares that forced him awake often and yet returned immediately when he closed his eyes. He dreamed of Erella, giant and standing dozens of feet above him while she beat him repeatedly with the Scepter of Garod, and the old man Palius laughed grandly all the while. He dreamed of Byrverus, beautiful and magnificent, its limestone and marble spires crumbling before a great black storm, and Aidan was powerless to stop it. He awoke freezing and soaked with sweat as the sun’s first light shone into his grand cell, as one final nightmare of a burning lake of blood faded out of his consciousness.

* * *

“My queen, how may I serve you?” Aidan asked, kneeling in reverence.

He was tired and haggard, the fat pouches below his eyes seemed to hang dangerously, but he had come as commanded. The hall was not as crowded as usual, and even Palius was absent. Apparently Queen Erella needed only a handful of witnesses to be sure he did not refuse her. She wore her ornate white robes with both secular and religious badges of office embroidered in gold thread. Her most official crown, heavy gold and reserved for the most important state affairs, sat upon her head, and the scepter rested across her straight legs.

“Good Aidan, you show your loyalty to Garod and Aquis as always,” she said, though the praise even more committed him to whatever task she asked of him. “Garod has great need of you, or more specifically, your unique skills in protecting and spreading the faith.”

“I live only to serve, Majesty,” he replied, and he saw the very slightest hint of a smile upturn her lips.

“I need you to journey to Fort Haldon and oversee the foundation of a proper temple. Garod must be present there and faith in Him protected amongst the masses. I see no better choice than you.”

“My queen,” Aidan said slowly as he chose his words carefully, “what of Byrverus? Surely there are other priests who are just as pious with less responsibility.”

Queen Erella’s eyes turned hard as granite, and Aidan knew the discussion was over. “None so much as you, good Aidan. You need not worry for Byrverus, for I shall care for the great city. I care for all of Aquis already, what is the addition of Byrverus to the weight already on my shoulders. You must leave immediately. Go forth and make certain Lord Dahken Cor shows Garod the proper reverence.”

Aidan couldn’t believe what she’d done to him, what she asked of him! He, Lord of Byrverus and the next ruler of Aquis, was being sent to the edge of the realm and the edge of the world as far as he was concerned, to brave the cold of the mountains, Loszian invasion and, worst of all, a gray skinned demon and his heathen witch seductress. He mumbled his gratitude and returned to the temple to prepare for his journey. It was in a sudden fit of panic that Aidan realized he’d never once left Byrverus and had no idea how he would survive outside of civilization.

14.

Cor sent for the architect nearly an hour ago, and he paced around the table with great impatience. Ever since he nearly destroyed the desk in his quarters, he’d taken to overseeing most matters from the long heavy table that would soon be surrounded by the Dahken’s hall. It was covered or even moved indoors during poor weather. Though that was not an issue today as the weather was beautiful, and Cor had been looking over the new plans for Fort Haldon. Outside the keep and in the main cluster of buildings that would support the fort was a large building labeled as “temple”.

The plans had been revised slightly several times over as more people came or intended to come to Fort Haldon to make their homes. About a hundred new soldiers had arrived from Byrverus, but more importantly, hundreds of commoners had come from various parts of Aquis, brought by opportunity. Land was offered readily in great amounts for little coin to entice them to come, despite the proximity to Losz that always seemed like a looming black cloud to the Westerners. Even still, they came with their families to establish new homes. As the population grew, as homes and farmsteads were established, Fort Haldon itself would need to grow more into a small city than just a defensive fort.

None of the previous plans had included a temple, at least nothing labeled as such, and Cor wanted an explanation. After all, this was his land as given by the queen Herself, and all changes to the plans had been discussed with him directly, except this one. Cor wanted to know who had added it to the layout of Fort Haldon and its intended use, though the general intention was clear enough. Every city or town in Aquis, and most of the smaller villages as well, had temples to Garod for the local populations to attend, worship and tithe.

At this moment he wished Thyss were near him so that he could discuss the matter with her, express his annoyance. She had taken to exploring the mountains, journeying into the Spine in search of anything that wouldn’t bore her. “Perhaps I will find my own giant spider to slay,” she had said. At first, Thyss would only disappear for a few hours at a time, but lately she had made her expeditions longer, as much as several days. He worried for her safety for no rational reason; Thyss could more than handle herself against virtually any foe, but even still, her trips or rather the lack of her presence twisted Cor’s stomach into knots. He couldn’t much complain about it; it kept her busy and took her mind off how mundane their existence had become since returning to Fort Haldon.

Excluding Rael’s death of course.

Cor looked down the grassy slope that led to the center of Fort Haldon and saw the architect. He was a short man of only five feet or so in height named Karl, and he climbed his way upward. Cor had been informed that architect wasn’t entirely accurate, as the man had several architects underneath him who actually designed the individual buildings; Karl called himself more of a civil planner, whatever that meant exactly. He was an odd man who spoke very quickly in short, clipped phrases when he felt the need to speak, moving quickly from one topic to the next. Though not very long, Karl’s light brown hair always stood on end in a most unruly fashion and often fell into his eyes as he spoke. Cor found him oddly comical.

It was the man that followed a few steps behind Karl that drew a long, hard look from Cor. He was a Westerner to be certain, roughly halfway between the height of Cor and Karl and very wide of frame. His straight, dark brown hair was combed and kept very flat and still against his scalp in a stark contrast to the shorter man he followed. The stranger wore a full brown robe complete with hood, though this was down behind his shoulders as it was a warm day, ornamented with markings indicating him to be a priest of some import. As the two men drew closer, he could clearly see the priest’s round, jovial face with fat lips that looked as if they slightly smiled even while he slept, and the man’s robe did little to hide an equally round figure. The priest had dark brown eyes in perfect concert with his hair, and Cor watched as they took in every detail.

“Lord Dahken, I apologize for the wait,” Karl said as he reached the top of the long slope, huffing slightly.

“I understand you have many duties Karl,” Cor replied. He looked to the priest who distinctly smelled of flowered perfumes, likely to cover the unpleasant scents that usually accompany one of such bulk. “Who are you?”

“Aidan, Lord of Byrverus, servant to Garod and Queen Erella. I arrived yesterday to oversee the proper establishment of Garod’s order in Fort Haldon.”

“I would expect someone such as yourself to announce his arrival to me immediately, not whenever he felt like it.”

“You have no authority over me Cor Pelson. I come with the authority of Queen Erella Herself. Fort Haldon is set to grow, and it will soon be a center of order for the people who live within your grant. It is necessary that all proper services are available to the people, including the proper religious guidance,” Aidan said, unmasked superiority in his tone. “Immediately upon arriving, I instructed Karl to include a temple befitting of the King of Gods.”

“You will not call me by name, priest,” Cor growled angrily. “You may call me Lord Dahken only. This is Fort Haldon, not Byrverus, and I am law here. Fort Haldon is mine, land and title bestowed by the queen, and I do not bow to you priest. The Dahken do not worship your god.”

“This is not open to discussion,” Aidan replied, crossing his arms. “The queen commands the temple because the people of Aquis need Garod and the guidance of His priests. We protect them and teach them how to live in freedom.”

“You put the yoke of your god upon them,” Cor said, his temper flaring. Anger boiled inside him, and he strode purposefully to stand a mere foot from the priest. His palm longed to feel Soulmourn within it, but he repressed the feeling. “Garod’s priests have enslaved the minds of Westerners as much as the Loszians once enslaved their bodies. You force them to live as you would have them live, at any time imposing your will as the will of Garod’s. I will have no part of it at Fort Haldon.”

“You tread dangerously Dahken. I know of your blasphemy before Queen Erella, but She will have none of it in this matter.”

Aidan’s voice turned hard as cold steel, and the portly priest’s jovial face had become stone. They, Cor and Aidan, stood staring each other in the eyes for a long moment, each challenging the other, and Cor’s brain hurt with the screaming call to action from Soulmourn and Ebonwing. Finally and abruptly, he turned from the priest and slowly wandered back to the north end of the table where Fort Haldon’s plans were laid out and weighted at its corners from the wind. Aidan’s face softened a bit, and the satisfaction of a victory shone in his eyes.

“Karl, am I correct in assuming Garod’s Temple is nearly as large as the keep itself?” Cor asked, his head bent over as he leaned his hands on the tabletop.

“In ground area, yes Lord Dahken.”