“Of course,” I said, “the real question is, why now? They’ve had seven years to plot their revenge but done nothing. Now they appear suddenly and seem to be acting hastily. If they truly cared to punish me for Celior’s imprisonment, they would have done something long before now. That they didn’t, tells me that they are more afraid of me than they care about their lost brother.”
“Then what forced their hand?”
I was worried that I might already know the answer. “I think there’s someone they fear more than me.”
***
The dinner and other festivities were a bit more somber than Penny had planned, mostly because of our unfortunate encounter with Karenth. Nicholas seemed deep in thought, responding to most questions with short answers and barely laughing at my occasional jokes. We wound up calling it a night a bit earlier than anticipated, much to everyone’s relief I think.
The next morning Penny and I met Nicholas for breakfast and afterward we wished him well on his journey home. Contrary to my initial fear, that he might stay and insist on being involved once he knew of our imminent problem, the King of Gododdin seemed only too glad to be leaving. As he said his final private goodbyes to us, he paused and looked at me apologetically.
“Mordecai,” he said after a moment, “I want you to know that you have my respect and gratitude for everything that you and your wife have done for us, but…”
I interrupted, “You don’t have to explain. I understand, Nicholas.”
“No, no! I do. I owe you so much, yet I cannot bring myself to go against the mandate of my god. I fear I have damned myself already by befriending you, and yet I cannot help but think there should be some way to resolve this. You are a good man, Mordecai, and my god is a good god. Perhaps if you accede to his wishes and ask forgiveness… the two of you could work together to stop Mal’goroth and the shiggreth as well.”
Over the course of my time with Nicholas I had come to like the man, but he obviously had blinders on; or perhaps it was because of the difference in our personal experiences. “A good god would not threaten the lives of innocents because of my actions, right or wrong. A true ‘god’ would not need to bargain with me, nor could one be imprisoned. These are not gods we are dealing with Nicholas… not of the sort we were taught of as children. These are overgrown and monstrous supernatural bullies. The only difference separating them from a human tyrant is the magnitude of their power. If there is such a thing as a true god, and he is good, then Karenth and the others should be afraid, for they will be the first on his list of wrong-doers to punish.”
The King of Gododdin gave me an incredulous look. “Every time we speak, new blasphemies fall from your lips as easily as fish breathe water. How could there be a god above the gods? If such a god existed, would you advise him as he sat in judgment of gods and men? What hubris is that?”
“Call it hubris if you will, but if he didn’t have Mellicenth at the top of his list, then the term ‘good’ couldn’t be applied to him. Either that or good and evil themselves are nothing but relative moral terms applied by those in power to justify their actions,” I told him firmly.
Nicholas looked away, “You are mad, and yet I will pray for mercy on your behalf.” Sir Barnabas opened the door for him, but before the King of Gododdin exited he looked back at me. “Farewell Mordecai, it has been interesting getting to know you.”
“Farewell Nicholas, I wish you good fortune and shelter in the coming storm,” I replied and then he stepped out. That was the last chance we had to speak privately, for after that our goodbyes were said in the presence of all the residents of Castle Cameron and Washbrook. Needless to say, it was a large crowd that had gathered to wish Nicholas well on his trip home. It wasn’t often that we hosted a king within our walls.
***
Once things had quieted down later in the day, I retreated to my study to write the letter I should have sent the day before. Too many things happening at once, I told myself mentally. With pen in hand I began the letter:
Cyhan,
We are under threat of imminent attack here at Castle Cameron, therefore I must order you to reverse your steps and return at once. Make all haste to return within the week if possible. I will explain the events that led to this once you return. For now I will simply say, the gods have returned and are anxiously looking forward to a reunion with their lost brother.
Mordecai
I reviewed the words twice before folding the letter and placing it within the box that would transport it to Cyhan as he traveled to Gododdin. He had already been on the road for a number of days, and it would probably take an equal amount of time for him to return. I did a mental calculation, five days, I decided at last. He had left with the patrol four and a half days past, so logically it should take him approximately five days to return.
According to Karenth’s reply to my question, we should have thirteen days before the excitement started. That would give me plenty of time to evacuate most of the people and review the plans Dorian and I had created years before to cover the various situations we thought might occur when the gods finally came to have their due.
Chapter 14
The next morning I found myself up early. Well, to say ‘I found myself’ is a bit misleading, the truth was that Penny threatened me with a bucket of cold water. “I’m up dammit!” I shouted as I stumbled from the bed in a panic. She hadn’t reacted well to finding me napping again after the first warning.
The room swam about me as I tried to catch my balance. Penny was kind enough to set her bucket down and catch me by the arm before I stumbled into the side table. The word ‘groggy’, was a bit of an understatement. “How late were you up?” she asked curiously. Her voice was devoid of the malice that had lain behind her warnings of a moment ago; instead it now conveyed only curiosity and perhaps innocent concern. I was never quite sure how she managed to switch from naughty to nice so quickly.
I had been working until nearly dawn, making sure that the enchantments I had laid years before were still in perfect shape. I had gone over them with painstaking care, making sure there were no mistakes, no flaws. Any imperfection would mean not only my own death, but could potentially cost me the lives of my family, along with everyone else who depended upon me. Last night wasn’t the first time I had checked and rechecked them… I had done so at least yearly for the past five years.
Penny got my attention again by snapping her fingers in front of me, “Hello? Did you hear me?”
I struggled for a witty answer and eventually came up with, “Huh?”
“I asked how late you were up,” she repeated patiently.
“M’not sure, two or three perhaps,” I hedged. “Do you have any tea?”
“Liar,” she rebuked me, “I woke up close to dawn, and you weren’t in bed yet. Lilly will be up with the tea in a moment. What were you doing?”
“Working on the defenses,” I said, using a half-truth. “Why am I awake so early?” I was hoping the question would deflect her attention.
She handed me a wet towel to wash my face. “You know very well why you’re awake. Dorian wants to start the meeting bright and early. Don’t try to distract me. When are you going to share the details?”
I should have known better than to expect I’d get away easily. This was a conversation we had had on a number of occasions in the past. “I have told you the details, those that I can share.”
“Not good enough,” she argued, “We have our children at risk, and now we know they are coming for sure. I want to know what you’ve kept hidden.”
“No,” I answered simply.
“Why?”
I sighed, “We’ve been over this before. The time may come when you are unable to conceal the information. That would effectively nullify my plan.”
“You don’t trust me?” she said, changing tactics.
I gave her a hard stare, “You know better than that. They might take the information straight out of your mind.”
Penny
drew out the amulet I had given her and held it in her hand. It shielded her mind from magical influences. Years ago I had created similar necklaces for every man, woman, and child of Washbrook and Cameron Castle.
“That might not be strong enough,” I told her, “and if you are captured they could easily remove it.”
“If you are captured there is no one left that knows how to put your plan into operation,” she countered.
It was a valid point. “If I am captured, and they learn the plan then it won’t matter. No trap will work when your enemy knows the nature of it. Besides, only a mage could set this in motion.”
My wife’s face did not reflect happiness. “You’ve grown too comfortable with secrets Mordecai,” she cautioned.
“Maybe,” I admitted. “I don’t like it either, but I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you and the children safe.”
She turned away and busied herself with dressing. “Whatever you think it takes,” she muttered quietly to herself, and in the interest of peace I pretended that I hadn’t heard.
***
Dorian stood at the head of the table in our council room. “I think you all understand why we are gathered. Yesterday’s ‘messenger’ was a reminder that we have powerful enemies, enemies that will soon be coming to pay us a visit.”
I couldn’t help but admire my friend’s poise. Over the years he had developed a strong confidence when it came to leading the men. Looking over the crowd, I could see that he had the rapt attention of every man and woman in the room, and there were a lot of them. Today’s meeting included not only the usual members of the Knights of Stone, but also Penny, Peter Tucker, Chad Grayson, Walter and Elaine Prathion, and of course myself. Peter was representing the castle staff, while Chad was my chief huntsman and consequently was in charge of the men I would be using to maintain a watch in and around the castle and its surrounds.
“Consequently,” Dorian continued, “we will maintain a position of high alert until after the current threat has passed.” Looking down the table, Dorian pointed at Peter, who had quietly raised his hand, “You have a question?”
“Yes mi’lord. I realize this may seem trivial, but will the yearly celebration still be held at week’s end?” he asked. He was referring to the yearly feast that commemorated our victory over the army of Gododdin.
Dorian nodded, looking toward me, “I would prefer to skip it this year but I will defer that question to our lord. Your Excellency…?”
My first instinct was to agree with him but as I started to rise I felt Penny’s hand upon my arm. I leaned closer and she whispered into my ear, “Morale will suffer greatly if you skip it. We have another week after that still.”
“The celebration will go forward as usual,” I told them. “It shouldn’t interfere, although I feel badly for your men, Chad,” I said, referring to the master huntsman. “Many of them will miss it to maintain watch. Also I will have to ask that everyone refrain from drinking overmuch.”
The man I had taken on as my huntsman a few years ago was young, close to my own age, but he was a man of few words. I had hired him away from the Lancaster’s on their huntsman, William Doyle’s, recommendation. Since then I had rarely been disappointed in his ability to find game. I would be counting on him and the other huntsmen to act as advance warning in the week to come.
“Don’t fret on our behalf, yer lordship,” he replied immediately. His courtly graces were lacking, but then that wasn’t what mattered in his line of work.
Sir Harold spoke next, “Given the fact that we have a good idea of when they will arrive, will we be altering our responses?” A big man, Harold had grown out of his boyish looks, and his short golden beard made him seem somewhat lion-like.
I was grateful for the question, for it led us directly to the heart of the matter. “Yes,” I answered, “it will alter our planning, although the basics will stay the same. Primarily, it will enable us to evacuate many people prior to the day we expect the gods to arrive. Dorian, would you mind going over the three basic plans for everyone? Just to make sure everyone remembers…”
“Certainly,” said Dorian before he drew a deep breath. He showed nothing of the nervousness he had once had difficulty with, but looking around the room, I could tell everyone was inwardly groaning at the thought of hearing the outlines of our emergency plans again. This was something we went over yearly; including a drill to make sure people knew what to do.
“As I am sure most of you know, we have been anticipating something like this for many years now, ever since our good count brought the ‘God-Stone’ back to Castle Cameron for safekeeping,” Dorian began carefully. “In the event of an attack or other emergency, there are three evacuations plans which we have designated with the colors blue, yellow, and red. The most optimistic plan is blue; although none of the three should be mistaken for a good situation.”
Dorian’s eyes roved across the room, making sure everyone’s attention was on him. “Blue means that we intend to stay and fight. The only people to be evacuated are those without assigned roles in the defense of the keep, primarily women, children and the elderly. From the yearly drills, the townsfolk and castle inhabitants should know to gather at the building housing the teleportation circles in the castle yard. All guardsmen, knights, and of course our few wizards, will report to their assigned locations. George and Elaine Prathion are responsible for making sure that those to be evacuated are taken by ‘circle’ to Albamarl.”
“Condition blue was created as a response to an attack by one of the shining gods, and the presumption is that our lord, the Count di’Cameron, will be able to handle one, preferably outside the castle environs, while the good Baron, Lord Prathion, will maintain the defensive barrier around Castle Cameron.” That was actually a bit of an oversimplification. The defensive barrier was an enchantment I had devised and built that would harness power from the God-Stone. The enchantment didn’t actually require much besides a mage to activate and deactivate it when desired.
“The next color, yellow,” Dorian said, continuing, “indicates a more serious state. The thought here is that we will use this color if we think that two of the gods are attacking in concert. The count has made it clear that in the event two of them attack at once, it will be impossible to achieve victory in a head to head confrontation. Everyone will be evacuated in this case, except for the knights and the Count himself. In addition the escape points will be different. Those in Washbrook will make directly for the Muddy Pig.”
The ‘Muddy Pig’ was the name Joe McDaniel had chosen for his tavern. The name was also a direct reference to my first meeting with the previous Baron of Arundel, when I had covered myself with mud before our introductions. That notable had been less than amused, but luckily the current baron, Walter, had a much better sense of humor. If the circumstances sound implausible… well, I had my reasons. Honestly.
I had created a safe haven beneath the cellars of the tavern, a large room that was magically concealed. The idea being that if we didn’t have time to evacuate the townsfolk, they could hide there until the ‘storm’ had passed. It also held a circle that led to Lancaster.
“Those within Castle Cameron will make for the great hall, while those manning the walls or in the yard, will make for the building where we house the circles. Elaine Prathion will be responsible for moving people there, while George Prathion will be responsible for transporting those that take haven at the Muddy Pig. The Baron will handle those that gather in the great hall.” Dorian paused for a moment, for Sir Ian had caught his eye. “You have a question?” he asked.
Sir Ian was a dark haired man with deep brown eyes. People meeting him for the first time often described his looks as ‘fierce’ or ‘intimidating’. Later they would realize he was actually one of the mildest mannered men amongst the knights; his looks were in contrast to his true personality. He addressed Dorian hesitantly, “No disrespect Lord Dorian, but we’ve been over this at least once a year and I still have one concern.” It was
a statement that begged the question.
“What is your concern?” said Dorian.
“There is no mention in any of the plans regarding how the Count and his family will be evacuated. Is this an oversight or a deliberate omission?” asked Sir Ian.
Dorian glanced in my direction, for he knew this dealt with matters I would rather not discuss openly. I raised a hand to let him know I would handle it and stood to face the questioner. “Your question has two answers Sir Ian,” I told him, giving the man an honest stare, “neither of which you will like. One, I will not be part of the evacuation in any of the three scenarios we have planned. In most cases I will be handling matters that will likely prevent me from joining the exodus. I will provide for my own exit, if possible. Second, my family will either evacuate at one of the previously mentioned points, or via another route that we have kept private. In each case the final decision will rest with my lady wife, depending upon circumstances.”
There were a few mutters around the room, but I stared at them until silence returned. Once they had gone quiet I asked Sir Ian, “Is that answer sufficient for you?”
“Yes, my lord,” he responded promptly.
I nodded at Dorian and he resumed his explanation. “The last plan is designated red, and is quite similar to blue. The main difference is that there is no provision for any resistance. In blue, the Knights of Stone and our Count remain in order to defend and delay. Red will be used if we think that all three of the remaining gods have come against us at once. In this case we activate the barrier defense immediately, and everyone within the keep is to report to the meeting points to evacuate without delay. Those unfortunate enough to be outside the castle walls when this happens, will have the option of trying to make it to the Muddy Pig to hide or simply striking out into the wilderness.”
Peter spoke up then, “If we don’t hope to win in a ‘yellow’ emergency, why don’t we simply evacuate everyone immediately. I’m not sure I see the need for a separate red and yellow plan.” Several of the knights gave him scornful looks. It was a question any of them might have been wondering, but given Peter’s position as my chamberlain and a non-combatant, they considered the topic outside of his purview.