Giving little more than a brief nod to the two of them, I turned and began making my way through the tents towards the stables and the horse yards. Internally I was still seething from the Duke and his cronies but I was now feeling the consuming dread and anticipation making itself felt. Falid’s words was not a threat but a warning and a promise and there was going to be little that I or anyone else could do once the rest of the Black Knights arrived.

  At that moment there was little more that I could do than stomp my way through the dust and gravel, casting my gaze over the dozens of horses secured in their makeshift pens and the men and mer seeing to them in search for the individual that I sought. Caleb wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but he was obvious enough once I stepped inside the stables.

  In the days since the Duke’s arrival the stables had been the only other building than the priory house itself to receive any attention from the labourers. The sheer quality and value of the Duke and his entourage’s horses demanded it and in the space of single day the last portions of the roof and walls were completed and the stalls filled with fresh fodder. Each of the horses currently occupying the stables were each worth small baronies on their own, and it was a small measure of amusement that among their number were Trygve and Ultrin.

  Caleb was there, moving slowly along the outside of one of the stalls where he had led out its enormous occupant. The destrier and in turn its rider was unknown to me but the silky nature of its hide, along with the enormous coiling muscles made it obvious that it was one of the many newcomer’s steeds.

  “Good morning Commander.” He said as he caught sight of me, lifting his gaze for a moment as he inspected the warhorse’s flanks. “Uh. I mean sir.”

  I waved off his nervousness and his habit of calling me commander from the weeks before the Duke’s arrival. “Good morning.”

  Other than ourselves, the stables were empty of everyone but horses and judging by the states of them I could understand why. Normally the servants of the Knights and those who specialised in the care of the horses spent the mornings and afternoons seeing to them and it showed. Every single one of the enormous animals were obviously freshly brushed, their stables mucked out and cleaned and not a single thing was out of place. This alone left Caleb’s presence something of an oddity.

  “Keeping yourself busy I see.”

  “I try my best sir.”

  “You can relax a little you know.”

  He paused for a moment, giving a poor attempt of a relaxed smile as he lightly tapped the horse he was inspecting on the knee. The highly trained animal was standing calmly and not moving, but it lifted its leg obediently to allow Caleb to inspect a hoof.

  “Sorry.” Despite his nervousness, he showed none of it in his actions with the horse that outweighed both of us five or six times over. Like many of the other Bretonnic steeds, the destrier was enormous and bred for war. “It’s taking a bit to get used to it all.”

  “That’s part of the reason why I came looking for you. I’m interested in seeing how you are coping.”

  Running a finger over the hoof and inspecting the steel horseshoe nailed into it, he seemed content and repeated his actions with the opposite leg. Again the horse obediently lifted its other leg as he repeated the same inspection.

  “I’m not entirely sure how I am going anymore.” He said after some time. “Every day I wake up wondering whether everything that has occurred is nothing more than feverish dreams and yet every day I find myself here… in this place.”

  “You wish to be back home?”

  His laugh was muted and sad. “I don’t have a home. Never really have had one either I’m to going to be honest. Look, I know what and why you have come to see me and I appreciate everything that you and the others have done for me. But, my purpose here, the reason you all brought me here no longer exists.”

  “Meaning wielding the relics?”

  I could see his nod and the way that he kept his eyes adverted from me at all times, even as he moved to the horse’s rear legs and continued checking its hooves. “I’m no longer needed. I’m… useless now and I’m not entirely sure how I am supposed to feel about it.”

  “You are feeling relieved and yet lost.” I said very simply, almost speaking about myself more than him.

  “Yes.”

  “Then what do you want to do?”

  His laugh was barely audible and he shook his head. “I know that you and many of the others have never lived or even seen Highrock, but for someone such as myself having a choice in anything is… alien to say the least. Lowborn and servants have nothing to live for besides servitude and until a few months ago I believed that my destiny was to be buried a few hundred metres from where I was born. Now…”

  The way he trailed off was telling even more than the dejected slump of his shoulders and I leaned against one of the central posts that was almost as wide as my shoulders. “Now you find yourself almost on the other side of the world, surrounded by knights and soldiers.”

  “Living legends…” he whispered, not quite low enough for me not to hear, even with my mortal hearing.

  “And what does that make you? We all saw you wield the Mace. You can easily be counted among our number.”

  “Please… Don’t.”

  “Don’t?”

  For the first time since I had entered the stables he met my gaze and there was a hardness growing in them. “Don’t. I’m not a hero. I’m not Pelinal reborn. I am simply Caleb the farrier. I’m not of noble birth.”

  “Neither am I. Neither is a large number of us.”

  “I know what you are trying to do sir and it’s not going to work.”

  “What am I trying to do?”

  “Trying to get me to support you and wield the relics. There’s no point. I’m not the one chosen by the gods.”

  “Why? Have you spoken to them have you?”

  The hardness was growing stronger in his gaze even while I met it with an emotionless stare. “The Duke wields the sword and retrieved it himself. He even retrieved the Greaves of Mara. I am no longer needed and I am glad of it.”

  “No responsibility is a relief, that’s for certain.”

  “Then why don’t you shed your responsibility?”

  I wasn’t sure whether I was more surprise from the question or the insubordinate tone of his voice. In the previous weeks he had come a long way from the young fearful man barely out of his teens who had thrown up over my boots. There was still the streak of servitude from his lifetime of living under the nobles of Highrock but the Order of the Nine had done wonders for his confidence.

  “My responsibility. You mean my responsibility to the Order?”

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  He nodded, a shimmer of anger in his expression. “Yes. Duke de’Leorion is the Commander now. The Elder Council itself authorised it. Why don’t you fulfil your duty to him?”

  “Because I am not certain whether it is the right thing to do.”

  Completing his inspection of the warhorse’s hooves, Caleb twisted about, grasping a stiff bristled brush from where it had been left and commencing the long task of brushing it down. “He’s a Duke, your rightful commander with the authority of the Elder Council behind him and is obviously chosen by the gods to wield the relics. Yet… You don’t think it’s a right thing to do. When we first arrived I saw how you and the others were unable to pick up or use the relics which means that it is your duty to obey.”

  “I may have been in the Legion, Caleb, but I have never been one for obeying someone who hasn’t earned it. Yes, he’s a Duke. Yes, he can use the Sword but I don’t believe that he is worthy to wield it.”

  Slowly, Caleb’s smooth motions with the brush crawled to a halt and he lowered his head. “You know that I initially wondered why you couldn’t… didn’t claim the relics? After arriving here… in this place, I realised why.”

  I let him continue, even as he stood with his head bowed. “You, and many of the others are sinners.”

  The way he framed his words and the severity that he instilled in them left me trying, and failing to hold back a laugh and he turned with true anger on his face.

  “I’m sorry.” I spluttered, snorting a little. “I know how serious it is to you but I can’t help it. Of course we are all sinners, some of us are more than others. Viconia is a heathen and worships gods that are unknown to most of Tamriel, and I deserted the Legion like the twins. That’s not to mention the other unsavoury things that I have done in my life. I know that I am a sinner and I doubt there is a man or woman among our number who believes otherwise. That in itself is something that sets us aide from the likes of the Duke.”

  “Because he is a pious man?”

  “Because we know we aren’t worthy for the relics.” My voice was cold now and despite his indignation Caleb was listening intently. “When the Duke arrived the first thing he did was show the relics and claim the others and everything and everyone who laid before him. That is one of the reason why I don’t trust him and why he doesn’t have the relics. It’s also one of the reasons why I still believe that Pelinal’s heir is someone else.”

  “Someone like me…” Caleb whispered with a combination of fear and annoyance.

  “Not until it’s proved at least, but I know that there is something special about you. I am quickly beginning to know that there are very little in the way of coincidences in this world, and for you to do what you did in Leyawiin before us was certainly not one either.”

  “The Duke is the rightful claimant.” He said, softer this time and while there was steel in his tone I could tell that he was trying to convince himself more than me.

  “Maybe he is, maybe he isn’t.” I replied, softly and quietly turned and moving towards the door. “What you need to consider though, is that the original Knights of the Nine personally claimed the Relics for themselves and their hubris was their downfall. What makes the Duke any different to them?”

  Leaving the stables, I could feel my own tenseness increasing and I felt terrible as a result of talking with Caleb. I knew and understood how he was feeling in many ways. The sorrow of losing friends and colleagues, the way that he had found himself hundreds of kilometres from the life that he had known and with the potential weight of responsibility such as being Pelinal reborn crushing the soul. I knew exactly how he felt in the latter regard, especially after Jauffre and Martin had informed Viconia and I how we had featured in an Elder Scrolls prophecy for the past two thousand years.

  My mood certainly didn’t improve as I left the stables, finding Viconia leaning against the wall waiting for me. At a glance she seemed content and relaxed, merely taking in the sights while treating herself to a small bag of assorted nuts and dried berries that she had acquired somewhere. Until I had appeared she had been content in munching away on them a couple at a time but at the sight of me her expression changed and became sly and cunning.

  “Oh gods, now what?”

  The grin grew slightly larger and she kicked away from the wall, moving alongside me as we moved away from the stables. “I thought that you would like to know that Sir Wirile, in his infinite wisdom and mercy has decreed that only a handful of hours being pelted with rotten fruit is suitable punishment for rape.”

  My groan was clearly audible and I scrunched my eyes closed, tilting my head back and feeling the muscles in my neck ache in protest. “Of course…”

  A crunch of a nut of some kind echoed briefly as Viconia chewed, her smile not removing itself from her face as we continued to walk casually along. “Infuriating, but also highly entertaining.”

  “How is any of this entertaining?”

  Her laugh was dark and sultry. “Politics… Intrigue... These are fascinating and I haven’t been involved in such matters since the fall of house DeVir. It is… refreshing.”

  “I don’t consider this to be politicking. They are testing us.”

  “Testing you, mrannd’ssinss. Not us. The Duke and the others are here to wrest control from you and every action and reaction is being carefully weighed. From our dealings with Detane’s assailants and to every conversation they have with you is on purpose. They are trying to get rid of you.”

  “Great. Don’t suppose that you have any advice?”

  “Siyo. Keep doing what you are doing.”

  It was my time to laugh but it was bitter and little more than a snort of annoyance. “That’s not helpful Viconia.”

  “Only because you are too feebleminded to heed it.” Stepping deftly in front of me she pressed a hand into my chest and forced me to come to a halt and look her in the eye. “You cannot afford not to follow the weakling laws of the surface to the letter and every time you deal with any of them as such you weaken their position. They are waiting for you to make a mistake and they will be doing everything they can to force your hand. Shar curse their filthy hides, our evven’tus was probably encouraged to do what he tried to do.”

  “Evven’tus? Oh… rapist.”

  Her eyes fluttered in annoyance and she popped more dried berries into her mouth. “Rape is very much a tool. It asserts power and authority and last night if he had gotten away with it, it would have sent a clear message to everyone here who supports us. Instead, it has backfired on them.”

  “He still escaped his punishment though.”

  “Perhaps. It was to be expected however. Your passing of judgement was indirectly a challenge to their power. If anything I am surprised that they left him in the stocks as long as they did.”

  “So we are back to square one then.”

  “Shar you have much to learn mrannd’ssinss.” A finger raised itself in my direction even as she jiggled the bag in search of some of her preferred treats. “Our position is stronger. You have asserted your authority and shown that infringements will be punished and that no one, no matter their rank or title is above the laws of the surface world. It has been damaged by his release but now the others will think twice before doing anything.”

  “You didn’t go to that woman’s rescue last night because it was the right thing to do… did you?”

  “If you mean ‘right thing’ as being all noble and good… then no. They all needed something to show them that their actions had consequences. Everything that we have heard about these knights and the Host, especially what we have seen thus far show that they are not concerned with the petty trifles of justice and laws.”

  “Threatening to castrate one of them with your bare hands told them otherwise?”

  “Now you are getting it.” For a few moments she chewed carefully. “Now they have something to fear. You played your part beautifully though. They know that you will not stand for such things, but they also know that not all of us supporting you play by the rules. Every time they do something, they will be looking over their shoulder and they will also wonder whether they will be caught by the likes of you… or by someone like me.”

  “I keep forgetting how cold you can be sometimes.”

  “That’s because you are a wael.” Movement at the far end of the street caught her attention and I saw the hardening, but expectant expression that began creasing her cheeks. “Every action has a reaction, so we must ensure that they react the way we want them to.”

  Following her gaze, I saw the small collection of knights from the Host of the Horn, many wearing little more than their tunics and only some wearing any of their heraldry. One of them stood out considerably on account of the fact that his face was a mottling of marks and mild scratches from being the target of numerous thrown objects. Even from several metres away I could see the way parts of his scalp were stained with various vegetable juices, and judging by the way the others around him were laughing and the colour there must have been a handful of rotten beetroots in the mix.

  It was impossible not to see the way that they were all treating the whole situation and incident as a joke, especially with his own attitude change as he looked down the street and recognised us. There was a new swagger that suddenly crept into his stride, his back straightened and it was impossible not to see how smug he was at the outcome.

  Viconia however returned the smile with one of her own. There was a seductive sway of her hips as she held other free hand, revealing to the disgraced knight how she was holding a pair of walnuts in her palm. Without any hesitation she clenched her fist so hard and violently that the pair of nuts cracked and practically exploded, flicking shattered pieces of their shells in all directions.

  At the sight the knight paled, his eyes widening as he adverted his gaze. If it was possible for him to move any quicker without running he would have done so, turning and shoving his way through his comrades and disappearing from sight while trying to retain some portion of his shredded dignity.

  “Every action has a reaction…” I said, trying not to laugh at the way the knight had fled. “That was premediated… wasn’t it.”

  Viconia simply smiled, brushing the remains of the nuts on the front of her tunic as we both began to chuckle. “You know me all too well mrannd’ssinss.”