The Sword of Retribution

Charlie - Part 3

     This time, they were led into the Grand Hall of Truth and Justice itself, and into the large room where the council of war had been held a few days before. Gelrad was there waiting for them, along with an older paladin who could be none other than Lanaris himself. Goodness and holiness shone out of him like bright sunlight. The good in their souls basked and luxuriated in it like bathing beauties on a beach, while the evil in them screamed and cringed away, trying to find a dark, shadowy place where it could hide. Unconsciously, without thinking about it, they knelt before him and the soldiers offered him their swords.

     “You may rise,” said Lanaris, and they got back to their feet, Shaun and Matthew sheathing their weapons. They stared at each other in surprise at how automatically they'd made the gesture, the correct gesture it seemed. Their bodies had responded instinctively to the presence of this man, and it left them with a strange feeling of pride that their natural response had been one of respect and obeisance, rather than fear and defensiveness, as it might have been had they been nastier, more mercenary people. It felt as though they'd passed some kind of test, and they were left even more certain than they'd been before that they were good people, worthy of the company they were in. It was a good feeling.

     “Now, as you know," continued Lanaris. "Cedrus, who was to have been your guide to the Underworld, is unavailable. However it has been brought to my attention that the delegates of the cthillian race also know the way, and that you would be willing to have one of them as your guide. Is this true?”

     The questers all glanced at Jerry, who nodded reluctantly. “Yes,” replied Shaun. “We’ve talked it over and decided that we’re willing to take the risk rather than just admit defeat and go home.”

     Lanaris nodded slowly, but they saw the worry in his wise, compassionate eyes. “You understand the risks?” he asked. “You understand that these people are traditionally regarded as the deadly enemies of mankind, that they regard us as nothing more than cattle, theirs to feed upon and kill anytime they want?”

     Shaun nodded. “We’re counting on being able to appeal to their selfish self interests,” he said. “The success of our mission would benefit them as well as us.”

     Lanaris nodded again. “Well, it seems that you will get your wish,” he said. “We still have a few details of the non-aggression pact to sort out, so one of the cthillian delegates will be remaining for a few more days, but the other, the more junior of the two as I understand it, is willing to escort you to the Underworld. If you’re sure that you really want to do this, you’ll leave tonight, at sundown. I suggest that you spend the time until then thinking very carefully about what you’re getting into. There’s no shame in backing out, even at the very last moment. In my opinion, only a fool, or a madman or a very brave man indeed would go through with this.”

     Jerry muttered something. It sounded like “Me too.”

     “We have thought about it,” said Shaun, “and we think it’s at least worth a try. We’ll give it some more careful thought, but I don’t think we’re very likely to change our minds.”

     “Well, think again anyway,” advised the elderly paladin. “In the meantime, Gelrad will show you your equipment and how to use it. The Gods go with you all.” He turned to leave, and as he went he muttered unhappily to himself. “I don’t like this. I don’t like it at all.”

     “Don’t mind him,” said Gelrad when he’d gone. “He’s just naturally cautious, he can’t help it. I think it’s a great thing you’re doing, and I wish I was going with you. Follow me, this way, please.”

     He led them through a door into a smaller room, in which a large pile of equipment was heaped on a table. Most of it was potholing gear. Ropes, harnesses, hard hats, spiked hammers and so on, but a number of other interesting looking things were included in it.