[Mkguild] MK Story Taking account part 2

[christian okane]

   The road up to the castle was at a shallow grade but it paralleled the
castle the entire way. Not once during the ride were they out of arrow range
of the walls. At this distance he noted that the walls which he had taken
for stone were actually of brick! Normal, kiln fired brick. Still it was an
impressive structure with tall, strong walls and towers. The legate noted at
least a dozen figures on the wall watching them and he assumed they were
archers. There was a short wait at a small gatehouse before the carriage
clattered through the stone building and into the open area beyond.

 

   The carriage came to a halt in the inner courtyard of the castle. The
legate slowly stepped down into a courtyard alive with activity. The
courtyard was over a fifty yards wide and was ringed on all sides by tall,
multistory buildings of the same brick as the walls and topped with red tile
roofing.

 

   He saw brother-knights and civilians moving about on various errands. A
pair of young boys came forward and unhitched the horses from the carriage.
Tucked against one wall was a simple fountain whose water burbled and
splashed adding a soothing sound to an otherwise busy place. The legate
noticed that sitting prominently on one side was a large church whose spire
was topped not by a simple roof but a tall watchtower. That tower made the
legate tense; a church was supposed to be capped by a spire with a carillon
of bells whose sweet and sonorous peals would toll out the hours calling
people to prayer in praise of Eli and his glorious creation and salvation.
Witnessing a military structure on top of a house of Eli made the legate's
skin shiver and pimple with Goosebumps. There could be no doubt that these
people were devoted to the Ecclesia but were also soldiers and warriors.

 

   "This way please," Sir Harrick said and pointed to a set of stairs
leading to a second floor landing. Behind the landing was a large, wide
building with many arched windows, each with a black painted metal shutter.
Standing at the top of the steps was a middle aged woman wearing a blue
dress with a gold cross on it. Her black hair was barely shoulder length and
was bound up in tight braids.

 

   The woman quickly descended the steps and curtsied to the legate. "My
name is Arveline Dewitt. My apologies for the small reception, Father, but
matters here are unsettled. The Knightmaster has been informed of your
arrival and he wishes to see you immediately."

 

   The legate nodded his head. "Good. I wish to see him as well and with all
haste."

 

   Arveline motioned to a pair of servants standing nearby. "See to the
legate's baggage please."

 

   "Yes, milady," the two servants, both young boys on the cusp of manhood,
responded and hastened to the carriage.

 

   "I'll see that your baggage is delivered to your rooms. Our
accommodations are a bit spare but they are clean and wholesome," she said
with a measure of pride revealed in a slight dimpling of her cheeks.

 

   The new visitor recalled that no less than twenty of the Order's rules
were dedicated to cleanliness and such matters as not allowing a latrine
upstream from where drinking water was drawn. Common sense really but such
sense was sadly lacking in many other places.

 

   The trio climbed the steps and passed through a doorway with a rounded
arch. The corridor beyond led deeper into the fortress, the gloom lit only
by the narrow windows and tar-scented torches lining the opposing wall. They
walked swiftly down the corridor without turning. "A small question," the
legate asked with a faint smile on his lips. "What is your role in the
Order? You wear the colors of a knight, but no Order of the Ecclesia allows
women to bear arms in combat."

 

   "The Order of Protectors is the same," Arveline replied with a return
faint smile. "I am the Senior Lay Sister here. My duties are to command all
the lay members of the Order. I am devoted to the Order but I'm not a knight
nor do I bear arms. Although my son is a knight," she said with renewed
pride. "As is my husband."

 

   "There has been a Dewick in the order since it was founded," Harrick
added as if he were an uncle fondly dwelling on his nephews and nieces. "Her
son is the fourth generation. Often father to son."

 

   "Sometimes father to cousin too," she added. "Uncle Godwick is a fine
brother."

 

   "Father to son?" The legate asked with some skepticism, making a mental
note to review the Rule for the Protectors at his earlier convenience. "Does
not the Order practice celibacy like the Order of the Shields?"

 

   "Most brothers have taken a vow of celibacy," Harrick explained slowly.
"But not all. We are devoted to Eli but it is also understood that the Great
one does love children and upholds the sacred union of marriage."

 

   The legate nodded slowly and tried not to show both his surprise and a
bit of his ire at those words. It meant that either something else he had
been told about the Order was wrong, or something far more dangerous. "The
Order's Rule approved by the Patriarch specifies celibacy. Does it not?"

 

   "It does," Arveline answered slowly and deliberately. And so too did
their pace. "But things change."

 

   "The brothers used to all take a vow of celibacy but often the flesh is
weak," Harrick said as they continued down the corridor, shadows once
simple, now suggestive of even more secrets hiding within the Order. "One
such weakness by a knight-brother resulted in a son born inappropriately.
Later that boy grew into a fine young man and himself joined the Order."

 

   "The Order did not discipline the knight?" The legate asked in surprise.
"And they accepted a bastard?"

 

   "Of course the brother was disciplined! He broke the vows and rules of
the order. And as for the child; Why shouldn't we accept him? He was not
responsible for the circumstances of his birth," the knight countered.
"Still his early years in the Order were not easy and he was subjected to
prejudice because of it. He persevered and quickly rose through the ranks."
Harrick's lips turned into a moue. "The knight who sired him... he did not
rise in the ranks. He was a better father than he had been a Knight
brother."

 

   "When brother Alwyn became Knightmaster Alwyn," the woman added. "It was
decided that perhaps the order should honor the sacred union of marriage."

 

   "There was some cold logic behind the decision," the knight explained.
"It allowed many to join who were already married. And it also allowed
access to a source of brother-initiates that had never existed before - the
sons of knights. What son doesn't want to follow in the footsteps of their
father?"

 

   "But to marry a Brother needs special dispensation from the Knight master
himself," she explained. "There are only a small number who are married.
Around three hundred at last count."

 

   "You both are well versed in that argument," the legate commented coldly.
"A little too well perhaps."

 

   'It is an old argument," Harrack said with a cool warning girding his
voice. "That's always brought up when someone like yourself visits the
order. Twice they have come solely because of it."

 

   "I see," the legate said slowly. "I will defer any further inquiries
until I have studied the Rule of your Order myself.  For now, I offer you my
apologies if I have accidentally insulted someone. I am not here to condemn
or condone the Order's family habits as such. That would be a simple matter
compared to my purpose."

 

   "You're here about the civil war," Arveline offered bluntly. "It's the
only reason you could be here."

 

   "The only time the Patriarch sends a legate is to discuss some problem,"
Sir Harrick muttered. "They always bring trouble. Never praise or to offer
help."

 

   "Perhaps the Ecclesia have for too long ignored the Order," the legate
offered for the sake of charity. "I am aware that the Order's pleas have
been ignored in favor of other pressing issues.  But I assure you there have
been many pleas from many places of late."

 

   "Yesulam is a long distance from here," Harrick added. "Physically and
emotionally."

 

   "That is no excuse, as Eli is always near, and the Ecclesia is as close
as the nearest priest," the legate reminded a bit more sternly than he would
have liked. "I am here to discover what happened and to seek how to correct
the problem regardless of what that might entail. If it leads back to the
Ecclesia and Yesulam not responding to a plea when they should have, then so
be it."

 

   Their steps finally came to an end in front of a closed oaken door. "The
Knightmaster is waiting for you in here, Father," Arveline announced.

 

   The woman rapped on the door several times and it opened a small way and
she leaned in. "The Legate is here to speak with the Knightmaster." The
legate didn't see who she was talking but the door quickly closed. Then it
opened wide.

 

   "Please see the legate in," came a voice from the room beyond the door.

 

   The room where the Knightmaster was holding session was of modest size;
some twenty feet wide and about twice that long. It was sparsely furnished
with only a simple Follower cross hanging on one of the whitewashed walls.
Wooden tables and benches were placed along the walls, telling of the rooms
other duty as a dining room. At one end of the room stood Sir Godric Neville
Kenward Knightmaster of the order of Protectors. The legate was surprised at
how short the man was; barely five feet tall. Short enough that he had to
stand on a small block of stone to be seen by the twenty men assembled in
front of him. All twenty-one were wearing plate mail armor, over which was a
blue tunic. Prominently displayed on the chest of all was a gold Follower
cross, marking them as Knight-brothers of the order. The legate noted that
all the brothers he had seen were wearing armor. He wondered if they ever
took off the armor? Did they sleep in it?

 

   The legate looked at the Knightmaster and saw the man staring back at
him. His face had the rough and weathered look all soldiers seem to share.
His eyes were piercing and the legate was sure the Knightmaster missed not
one detail of his appearance and bearing.

 

   "Good afternoon Knightmaster Kenward," the legate said and bowed deeply.
"Thank you for seeing me so promptly."

 

   The Knightmaster returned the bow. "You are welcome, Legate Tuscus. I
understand you are here to discuss the Order's actions in the recent civil
war."

 

   "Some disturbing reports have reached the Patriarch as of late," the
legate replied as he folded his hands before him.

 

   Kenward gave a wave of the hand and the legate came forward.

 

   "These are my credentials," the legate said and produced a scroll from
the sleeves of his robes.

 

   The Knightmaster took the scroll and opened it. For several moments he
read what had been scribed on it. Then he carefully rolled the scroll closed
and handed it back. "You have arrived just in time. We have only just
begun," he gestured to the knights assembled in front of him. "These
Knightbrothers are here to explain what happened at their Chapters and their
own actions."

 

   The Knightmaster looked to the knights and pointed to one standing a few
paces away from him. "Continue brother Marcus."

 

   "We were ordered to stage a major raid into Sathmore. Those orders came
from Bishop Ammodus himself," the blonde-haired knight said. "It had his
seal."

 

   "We were attacked first," a second brother added. "I knew of the war when
one of my patrols was ambushed and a half dozen killed."

 

   "Ambushed by who?" The Knightmaster asked.

 

   "By Lightbringers," was the quick answer but there was doubt in the voice
and confusion on the man's face. "At least I thought they were
Lightbringers. Now I am not so certain."

 

   "It seemed so clear and simple then," Marcus said slowly and shook his
head. "Now it's all confused and jumbled."

 

   "It was clear and simple to the Yesbearn knights," another remarked with
acid in his voice. "It still is."

 

   "Everything seems clear and simple to them," the Knightmaster commented
sarcastically. He opened his mouth to say more but then shut it just as
quickly.

 

   The legate was aware that there had always been tension between the two
orders. The Yesbearn had always seen the Protectors as too easy going and
lax. The Protectors always considered the Yesbearn too harsh and
uncompromising. Both the Protectors and the Knights of the Shields despised
the Yesbearn. It was one of the few things they both totally agreed on. The
last message to the Patriarch from the Protectors concerning the Yesbearn
used the word fanatic no less than four times. That warning sign should have
been heeded and a legate sent out then. It could have saved many lives. But
that side of this affair was already being investigated and was of no
concern to him for the moment.

 

   "They had the signed authorization of the bishop himself. They wanted us
to provide support for a raid into Sathmore. They said the Lightbringers
were planning more attacks and we had to strike first," the knight
explained.

 

   "To protect all the people," another added.

 

   The legate leaned forward. "What did you do?"

 

   "We refused," came the answer.

 

   "You have raided into Sathmore before," Tuscus pointed out, with a quick
glance at Harrick who remained at the far end of the hall. "Why did you
refuse then?"

 

   "This was different. They were talking of killing and destroying all the
unbelievers," the knight explained. "The earlier raids weren't really raids.
Few people are really hurt in the back and forth skirmishing. Usually it was
a lot of shouting and punching and kicking."

 

   "It's mostly limited to stealing cattle and goods," another added.
"Harassment."

 

   "In other places such behavior is called theft and brigandage," the
legate said. "And here it is normal, nay, expected?"

 

   "It was a release, Father," the knightmaster explained. "There is always
tension here between Follower and Lightbringer. Such small acts often kept
anger low and tensions at a minimum. It was a way to allow anger to
dissipate without open bloodshed."

 

   "It also keeps this border from being peaceful," the legate noted.

 

   A knight laughed and gave a wry smile. "This area hasn't seen peace in
over five hundred years. Not since the collapse of the empire."

 

   The knightmaster slowly nodded. "All too true. But perhaps we have
allowed such pettiness to go on for far too long."

 

   Sir Harrick nodded. "This has never been an easy place to rule over but I
agree. As knights we are supposed to be above such pettiness."

 

   "When they asked you on those raids..."

 

   "Ordered," Marcus interrupted. "They did not ask. They ordered."

 

   "You disobeyed a direct order from a superior?" Kenward asked in measured
tones. "Why?"

 

   "Why?" Marcus asked with a look of surprise on his face. "Because it ran
counter to the rules of the Order."

 

   The Knightmaster gave a nod of the head and a small smile. "I am glad to
see that you lived up to the rules of the order. At least in that point."

 

   The legate glanced briefly at Harrick and then at the other knights
assembled. He wondered how many of them took the rules of celibacy
seriously. Still, he said nothing of that, for it could wait for another
more appropriate time. He had far more important matters to ponder. "When
you were ordered and refused what happened then?" he asked. "Did you not try
and stop them?"

 

   "No," the knight said slowly. "But we should have. Brother Karlis decided
to not help them but also not to stop them."

 

   "Where is Brother Karlis?" The legate asked coldly. "He is the castellan
here."

 

   "He was the castellan," the knightmaster said in clipped tones.

 

   "Where is he now?" Tuscus asked.

 

   "He is dead," was the response from one of the knights in a pained voice.

 

   "Dead," came the whispered echo from the crowd.

 

   "His death was," the knightmaster started and paused. "Unnatural."

 

   The cold visage on the legate's face vanished, replaced by a look of
surprise and concern. "I am sorry to hear that. I'll pray for his soul. But
tell me, you say his death was unnatural. Why unnatural?"

 

   "Thank you for your prayers, Father," the Knightmaster said in a pained
tone. "He was a close friend. But of his death..." his eyes strayed to the
looks of horror that lingered in the eyes of many of the other knights. "But
of his death I cannot speak here."

 

   Tuscus sighed deeply and nodded. "Thank you. Even though he is dead it
seems Bishop Ammodus' corruption continues to claim lives."

 

   "Indeed," someone answered.

 

   "Is there anything you wish to add or comment?" The Knightmaster asked
the knights assembled in front of him.

 

   "No sir," came the collective answer.

 

   "Then you are dismissed. You have just enough time to prepare for
Vespers," the Knightmaster said slowly.

 

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