Chapter XXXIX

Sixteen years ago, when the Nihilites marched on the capital of Arx, it was clear that they wanted to kill the Arxian people. General Meriel, during her campaign in the March of Muri, had made that abundantly clear. She'd destroyed village after village, most of them not even in her way. As such, it made sense back then for the Arxians to flee to the capital, wall themselves in, so that they would not be as vulnerable as they were in the villages.

Now the noble houses of Arx were about to march on the capital city, and their goal was clearly to depose Aryn and replace her with Mahla. The people would be safer if they weren't in the capital when the siege began, so Aryn issued a decree.

“Anyone who isn't part of the militia or otherwise a part of this city's defense needs to evacuate the city immediately. There are villages not far away which would be likely to take you in, and the Arch-Bishop has even promised use of Caelum Academy.” It was unlikely that Jachai would have any reason to attack Caelum Academy, where the paladins trained, but if he did Aryn was confident that the paladins in training would be able to keep the people safe.

People immediately began the evacuation. They said their goodbyes to loved ones who were staying behind to defend the capital. Most of them understood these might be their final goodbyes in this lifetime. Aryn watched on as young boys tried to argue with their parents, claiming that they could fight in the battle to come too, only to be dragged out of the city. One of the men who was staying behind in the city said to his son, a boy only eight years of age, “I know you can fight. I've seen you practice with your friends. That's why they need you in the village, in case the bad people attack there.”

There was no pulling the wool over that kid's eyes, however, and he cried and reached for his father as his mother took him away.

“With only those loyal to the cause here we can be pretty sure no one's going to be foolish enough to open the gates for our enemies,” Sarahi said.

Aryn hadn't thought about that, but she instantly recalled her lessons. When a city is besieged the greatest threat is often from within, either a traitor or a spy who opens the gates for the attacking army. With all except those fighting in the battle gone they'd greatly reduced the chances that someone would open the gates for Jachai's army when it arrived.

The gates opened, just then, though, as Gianni and his knights rode into the city, the infantry following close behind. They panted and were covered in sweat. Almost as soon as they were within the city walls they collapsed. Aryn, Sarahi, and Tamas rushed to the gates to see what had happened.

Gianni looked up as they approached, his brow furrowed. “They took Domford Bridge,” he said. “I lost many soldiers, and it was clear that if we stood our ground we'd die.”

“If they took Domford Bridge we don't have long to prepare,” Aryn said. “Alright, you know the camps the militia have built outside the city?”

“Yes.”

“I want at least one professional soldier at every camp. Make sure the conscripts are building spiked barricades at the very least to hold back enemy troops. Whatever professional soldier you send will be in charge of that camp.”

“A sound plan,” said King Gianni with another nod. “If you don't mind, though, I need to give my soldiers some time to rest.”

“We cannot afford more than six hours,” Aryn said. “If the enemy is at the Domford Bridge they're already moving soldiers across the river. They'll want to surround the capital, and as soon as its surrounded they'll begin their assault.”

“Fair point,” said King Gianni. “Listen to me!” he shouted at his soldiers. “Get some rest, but be ready in six hours to move out again. You'll each be commanding one of the militia camps outside of the capital.”

Aryn gave Gianni a nod in turn, and then walked off, heading back to the castle. Sarahi quickly caught up to her, “With your permission, I'd like to go to Caelum Academy with the non-combatants,” she said.

“Why's that?” Aryn asked.

“Well, first of all, I want to be there to comfort the people. I was their queen for sixteen years. Second of all...I feel that if I go there I might have a chance of making penance. When I suggested to you that you execute Mahla simply because she was a threat I lost my powers as a paladin, as you know. I want to see if God will forgive me and allow me those powers back so that I can fight in this war.”

“You conquered Nihilus sixteen years ago. How much more fighting do you really think you need to do?” Aryn asked.

“There's just one more war for me to fight,” Aryn said. “The war to defend my daughter.”

Aryn smiled at her and nodded, “Very well. Then take Milo with you.”

“As much as I'd like to have him with me I'm afraid that's not the best idea,” Sarahi said. “Having him there would be distracting to me, I need to take the time to patch up my relationship with God. Furthermore the people here need him. He's an inspiration to all of them.” Sarahi leaned in, “Besides, if I feel as badly as I do not being able to protect you to the best of my abilities I can't imagine how crazy he'd be going not being by your side.”

“Fair enough,” Aryn said. “You may go with the refugees to Caelum Academy and Milo shall stay here with me.”

“Thank you,” Sarahi said. “Please don't tell Milo I've left until I've been gone at least a few hours, though.”

“Why? You said he'd want to stay here and protect me.”

“He will. But he'll also try to talk me into staying, so please, I'd prefer to avoid that conversation.”

“Fine! You'd think after so many years together you two could be honest with one another.”

Sarahi chuckled and then pulled Aryn into a tight hug, “I love you. I know I don't say it near enough, but it's true.”

“I love you too, Mom,” Aryn said, returning the hug.

With Milo, Shamira, and Tamas all staying in the capital to keep a close eye on her Aryn felt like they were treating her as if she was made of glass. Sure, she hadn't had the kind of warrior training any of them had, but Kamal taught her geomancy from the time she was a girl.

As Aryn watched her mother leave the city, traveling with a large group of refugees, Tamas spoke to her. “She'll be surrounded by paladin cadets in an academy which is also one of the finest fortresses ever built. Don't worry, she'll be fine.”

“Jachai wouldn't dare attack Caelum,” Aryn said. “I'm not worried.” It was a lie. Sure, Aryn was fairly certain that Jachai wouldn't attack Caelum Academy. There would be no strategic advantage to that, and he was already risking the wrath of God just in fighting against the Church as he was. Still, there was a small part of Aryn's mind that worried for her mother's safety. Her mother was used to being a paladin, to having strength enhanced with holy magic and the ability to exorcise demons. Now she was weakened, a punishment from God because she suggested Aryn do something horrible. Aryn couldn't imagine what that would feel like, to lose your power and feel totally vulnerable. It occurred to her that if she lost this war that was exactly what she herself would experience.

Just as she promised, Aryn waited a few hours before she told Milo that Sarahi had left to go to Caelum.

“What? Why is she going to Caelum?” Milo asked, suddenly in a panic.

“She said she was going to try to restore her paladin abilities,” said Aryn. “Trying to get...forgiven, I guess.”

“You didn't stop her?” Milo asked. “How long ago did she leave?”

“No, I didn't stop her,” Aryn said, confused by the question. “She left over an hour ago. Why would I stop her?”

“Oh God...” Milo hung his head in his hands, “No! Sarahi! Don't do this! Oh God!”

“What? What is it?” Aryn asked, grabbing his shoulder.

“There's only one way for a paladin who's fallen from grace to get her powers back,” said Milo. “It's dangerous...they rarely survive...”

. . .

With all of the focus on defending the bridges Jachai was able to move his army across the river using seized fishing boats and small river-skiffs. He'd set up his camp on the side of the river closer to the capital, and simply waited for the rest of his army to cross. Given how great the army the Grand Duke commanded truly was, this would take days, and so he spent most of his time practicing. He wanted to keep his arms strong for when they stormed the capital.

He'd strike the dummy again and again. He aimed at neck, chest, waist, thigh, and then back to the top of the head. Years ago he learned that he had to have special practice dummies made, ones that would be able to withstand every blow from his sword, in spite of his immense strength. Normal dummies would be completely broken on the first few swings, the ones he had specially made he could attack for hours on end and they would not crumble.

As he stood out there, striking the dummy, with a soft drizzle pouring over him, a woman in a black cassock approached him. By the look of her she was an inquisitor. Now, while he had employed the inquisitors to keep the Duchy of Nihilus safe, he hadn't brought any inquisitors with him on his campaign against Aryn, so it was odd to see an inquisitor here.

He stopped striking the dummy and pushed the tip of his blunted practice sword into the ground, which allowed him to lean on the handle. “What do you want?” he asked.

“I am Sister Baara,” the woman inquisitor said. “Father Lamech, the Grand Inquisitor, has sent me to offer you a deal. May we speak privately?”

Jachai rolled his aching shoulders to work out some of the knots in the muscles, and then said, “I suppose I'll listen to whatever Lamech has to say. Follow me.” Jachai led Sister Baara to his tent, which was the largest of all the tents in the camp. It had a large table on which was sprawled out a map of Arx, with small pins representing the armies moving in. Before Baara could see it, Jachai grabbed his cloak and threw it over the table, just in case. “Have a seat. Did you want wine or anything?” He knew that inquisitors did not drink wine, but this did not make him sensitive to their customs.

“No, thank you,” Sister Baara said. Inquisitors believed getting too comfortable led to sin, but she also knew that refusing to sit might be taken as an insult, so she took a seat on the opposite side of the table. “We are alone here, yes? No one can hear us?”

Jachai left the tent a moment, glanced around to make sure no one was too near, and then closed the flap. “Yes, our conversation will be private.” He poured himself a glass of wine and sat in the chair across from Baara.

“Let's start off getting this out of the way; the Inquisition knows what you did. We know that it is you who drowned your wife in the bathtub, not Grigori, as you would have your soldiers believe.”

For a split second Jachai considered murdering this inquisitor in order to silence her. He couldn't risk it getting out that he'd drowned Liat. Even as the Grand Duke he'd lose much of the army's support. He quickly realized, though, that she probably wasn't the only inquisitor who knew, and if he killed her the other inquisitors would likely expose him. Instead he decided it would be much wiser to get to the bottom of this, find out who all knew, and what he needed to do in order to keep their silence, but he also knew he couldn't admit to anything.

“Where did you get that idea?” he asked.

“The angel Sandalphon sees much, and he saw what you did to your adulterous wife,” Sister Baara said. “Forced her head under the hot water, held her there until her body went limp, then held her corpse in your arms and sobbed. He saw it all.” Jachai merely stared at her in silence. His expression was unchanging, but she knew by this reaction that the information Father Lamech had given her was true. “You must be worried about what will happen to your soul, and well you should be. By Agalmite Law your soul is forfeit for what you did, there is no way to achieve salvation now. Yes, by their way of thinking you have no hope any more. Sandalphon, however, wants to extend the hand of salvation to you.”

Jachai smirked, “Right, because the hand of salvation is Sandalphon's to offer?”

“It is,” Sister Baara said. “Look at the facts; first of all, you know that the Inquisition has recently been taught a form of magic which allows us to summon angels, right?”

“Aye.”

“How could we use such a magic if the angels were not on our side? Angels came to Arx's defense sixteen years ago, but even the most powerful paladins and priests of the Agalmite faith cannot actually call upon angels at will.”

“True...”

“Then think about this, how can you really say the Agalmite Church is still right with God? God promised that a descendant of Melech would always sit on the throne of Arx, and yet the Church backs Aryn, the pretender? Clearly they are no longer on God's side.”

When Sister Baara said it she was saying exactly what Jachai had been thinking for a long time. Traditionally the Church stood for all of the promises in the Law and in the Scriptures. Now one of the most fundamental promises meant nothing to them, it seemed. They'd refused Mahla, abandoned Melech's descendants the moment it was convenient for them to do so. The Inquisition claimed that God was dead, and that only Sandalphon knew how to carry on God's wishes after his death. Previously it had been this very belief that had driven Jachai away from the Inquisition's belief system. However, for the Church to turn its back on God's promises and not be instantly swallowed up in the ground seemed to imply that the Inquisition might be right. The Agalmite God certainly wouldn't suffer such insults if he were alive, would he? Especially not from those whose whole claim to power was the belief that they spoke on his behalf.

“Normally we sever the arms of murderers,” said Sister Baara, “But Sandalphon has ordered us to offer you a special deal. Since you have a chance to set things right, restore the right bloodline to the throne of Arx and destroy the corrupt Agalmite Church, we need you to be the great warrior you've always been. This will be your penance. In exchange for helping us and letting us help you Sandalphon will pardon your sins, cleanse your soul, and lead you to salvation.”

Too much of this offer worked out in Jachai's favor for him to turn it down. Again, by the Agalmite Law his soul would be forfeit because of what he did to Liat, but under the True Way, the religion of the Inquisition, he had a chance to redeem himself. His enemies were united in a common faith, while his supporters found themselves in need of a uniting faith, since they were fighting against the Church. Furthermore Aryn's supporters had the advantage of geomancers, paladins, and priests on their side, the advantage that magic brought. If he accepted this deal with the Inquisition then his supporters too would have magic, and they'd stand a much better chance of achieving victory.

“I accept,” said Jachai. “I do not know yet if I believe that God is dead or any of the other things the Inquisition claims, but I know I am willing to learn, and willing to work with Sandalphon to seek out my redemption.”