Hitting the Books

“You seem more lively today, your grace.”

“Oh yes, Thurstan, I'm glad that we'll be moving out soon. Today's the last war council.”

Renfrid tried to sound casual, but in fact he was quite nervous. His meetings with father Kragavald, while most enlightening at first, started to fill him with anxiety. If there was indeed a rogue element acting inside the castle to aid the Flayed Sorcerer, there was a risk they would become alerted to their investigation, and conspire to eliminate them.

Not only that, but the young knight also started questioning himself if father Kragavald was even acting genuine. After all, he was an inquisitor, a custodian of religious purity. Was he testing Renfrid’s devotion or loyalty to the knight commander? He could not tell.

There was also de Montfort himself. While father Kragavald considered him complacent and ignorant, Renfrid thought it impossible to hide their actions from him forever, after all, they were under his roof. Sooner or later he would find out. Renfrid thought that they should tell him about the investigation, but father Kragavald advised against it. “We don’t have enough evidence” – he said.

Whatever the case, he now had a proper assignment from the old inquisitor.

“Have you brought the books from father Kragavald?”

“Aye, I have, your grace.”

“Good. Thank you, Thurstan, I’ll call you when I need you.”

The squire bowed and left the chamber. Renfrid was alone with a dauntingly tall stack of books and a flagon of wine. He poured some into the chalice and took the first book. It was a detailed account of Einhart’s guerilla campaign, handwritten by father Kragavald himself, and still in progress. Just yesterday he added some more details about Einhart’s capture based on Renfrid’s retelling. The old inquisitor bombarded him with questions until late into the night.

Renfrid riffled through the book, surprised by the amount of details the author poured onto the parchment. He must have been working on it for years, since there were interviews with brothers whom Renfrid knew were long dead, some even slain by Einhart in their pursuit of him. He knew that Einhart had been around long enough to evolve into a boogeyman, but the intimate knowledge of his campaigns preserved in the book gave him a new perspective. The author mostly recalled third party accounts, but also added some insightful comments of his own, giving an impression as if he knew the Flayed Sorcerer personally.

That’s not possible – Renfrid thought. – He didn’t join the Inquisition until long after Einhart had launched his personal war. He had no reason to be interested in the case before that. He was a werewolf slayer.

The book started with an account of king Kassamir’s decree dissolving the Royal Battlemage Corps and severing any ties the state had with previously officially sanctioned spellcasters: not only the battlemages, but also healers and civil workers. The decree also forbade any practice of magic in Rainhoven. While the book didn’t delve into details regarding the reasoning behind the decree, Renfrid knew the story well. A clique within the spellcasting caste had conspired to stage a coup d’état, but was discovered and arrested at the last moment. The fallout prompted the new king to cut the magicians off from public matters.

Einhart, who had just returned to active service only weeks prior, after recuperating from his injuries, was furious. He publicly challenged the royal decree, thus painting himself a traitor to the crown. Having gathered his supporters, he fled the capital and reemerged some months after, now leading a full-scale revolt. The response was an immediate and ruthless persecution of all magicians in the realm. Thousands burned at the stakes. The survivors either fled Rainhoven or joined Einhart’s growing ranks.

What should I be looking for? I don’t have time for a history lesson.

Kragavald had advised him to look for insights which could explain Einhart’s motivations, especially his recent excursion to the province of Inelin.

The old man must already know. After all, he wrote the book! Maybe he’s trying to teach me something. Or maybe his own memory is failing…

The first thing that came into Renfrid’s mind was the attempted regicide. It took place about five years into the rebellion, when the guerillas were at their strongest, having absorbed essentially all spellcasters left in the realm, including the former battlemages.

Einhart’s agents were able to infiltrate the Royal Palace and were about to attempt the assassination, when they were discovered by the knights of the Brotherhood of Righteousness. They were captured and publicly executed.

While already politically influential, this heroic act raised the Brotherhood’s standing to an all-time high. Noble families were sending their sons en masse to join the increasingly prestigious order. Such was the fate of young Renfrid. A third son, unlikely to become an heir to his father’s estate, presented a tempting opportunity to score some reputation points with the Holy See. He had nothing to say in the matter, but ultimately did not regret his fortune in life.

I should stop daydreaming. Focus, Renfrid.

The only other thing capable of luring Einhart out of his home territory of Rataï province was the search for magical artifacts which survived the tumultuous witch hunts that followed his treason. After the failed regicide attempt, Einhart’s ranks started growing thin, pressed harder and harder by the Brotherhood, which was in turn rapidly growing in numbers.

Facing the shortage of manpower, Einhart turned to solutions which would increase the combat capabilities of his force without the need for more men. It was then when he found the Ruby Spider, an artifact capable of turning insects into obedient killing machines the size of a man, thought to have been lost to the ages. He was also able to locate the Obsidian Blade, an enchanted sword rumored to be able to cut through steel plate. Many other artifacts were uncovered by his agents, some considered to have only existed in legends.

It was overwhelmingly effective in the short term. In the long term, however, it was not enough to prevail over an unassuming green metal, a part of the Brotherhood’s long witch hunting tradition: catharite. It reduced berserk insects back to their harmless forms. The mighty Obsidian Blade, thought to be indestructible, was shattered to splinters after a single blow that struck the catharite gorget. Thunderbolts and fireballs were extinguished with a harmless hiss. The Brotherhood was unstoppable in battle.

It took the Greefall massacre for Einhart to learn his lesson. Seventy of his men lay dead on the field. Most of his remaining artifacts were either destroyed or seized by the Brotherhood. Weakened more than ever, Einhart was now a fair game even for a rookie such as Renfrid.

I understand now. When he suffered his greatest defeat, Einhart resorted to gathering artifacts to bolster his strength… What if he found something even more powerful, capable of overcoming catharite? I must speak with father Kragavald.

As soon as he stood up, Thurstan entered the room, greatly startled.

“I apologize, your grace, but His Excellency has summoned you to his chamber.”

***

The winds carried Reiny eastward. He was flying low, following the serpentine course of the river. The current was choppy and foamy, with rocks sticking their heads out of the water hither and thither. Steep, craggy banks hugged the river closely from both sides. Fumes cast a faint rainbow over the waves.

While his corvine form was most suitable for the task, he found no trace of Katnir or the girl he fought. When he soared higher, he spotted distant dots speeding down the road. Two of the battlesisters also followed the river, apparently for the same reason, and equally fruitless.

Could he have died from the fall? – he thought. – After all, humans are so fragile…

In his long life he had rarely become attached to anyone, be it people or his fellow ravens. Such is the life of a yaoguai. People were born and died before he even blinked. Attachments seemed pointless. However, he would occasionally meet someone interesting, someone worth sticking around. Such was the case with Katnir.

They met at an unfortunate time for Reiny, for he had spent a few decades in captivity, kept as a pet raven by a deranged sorcerer. Katnir, not realizing that Reiny is in fact a yaoguai, freed him. Reiny’s true nature came out as a shock to the young wizard. That prompted a vicious fight, which could have well ended with Katnir’s death, was it not for an unexpected intrusion.

While their friendship had not kicked off on the best foot, they were later able to put their grievances aside. Ever since then Reiny had accompanied Katnir on his quest to return home, partially out of gratitude for setting him free, and partially out of innocent corvine curiosity.

Mile after mile, and there was still no sign of Katnir’s survival. With each passing hour Reiny started to come to terms with the fact that this companionship might have come to a premature end.

***

Mina waited at the gate for another hour, anxiously crumpling Taevine’s report in her fingers. A carrier pigeon had delivered it the day before. It read:

One sorcerer engaged on the bridge by Satine. Bridge collapsed, both missing. Conducting a search. Second sorcerer unseen, still at large. Expecting to return home tomorrow by noon.

T

The sun was already setting over the village of Gath scattered at the foot of the hill. It was after supper and a handful of pilgrims had retired to their lodgings. Still, the five rooms in the barracks were empty, silent as the other five which had already been cleaned.

Advised by the caresisters to retire as well, Mina was just about to return to her cell, when she saw a cloud of dust on the horizon, lit bright orange by the setting sun. Her heart almost leaped out of her chest when five horses emerged from the cloud, trotting through the village. Once they got closer, however, she realized that one of the saddles was empty. Satine’s horse had come home riderless.

Taevine passed her without a word, but Katria stopped her horse. Seeing Mina’s desperate eyes, she just shook her head. Mina broke down in tears.