Assurances
It was a lost cause. No matter how hard I banged on the doors of the Great Hall, Kharion would not open them to me. As if his handling of the negotiations had not gone poorly enough, now he was barring anyone save the Rangers from accessing the Great Hall. My only option would have been to break down the doors and force my way in, something I was sure I was capable of. Of course, if I did that, it would only paint me as an intruder, a villain. With an angry yell and a kick, I marched away from the door, ignoring the stares from those around me as I did.
This was a disaster, time was running out to prepare for Blackstone's assault, and yet we were clueless about the Elder's plans. I didn't even know who he was sending as Herongale's champion, or if he was adhering to that offer at all! And all for what? Grief over a slaughtered father? Did that justify dooming the hamlet he sought to protect? Casting out those sworn to protect it? I'd thought Daubeny the worst warlord I had ever served, but at least he had still fought for preservation. This Elder was behaving more like he was conducting some demented mass suicide, one where he was the only willing participant.
I could scarcely contain my rage by the time I'd returned to the communal bed chambers, the cold being somewhat dulled by the building. Most of the hamlet had thankfully been evacuated to the fortress by now, though the meager resistance Kharion had gathered still remained. That didn't prevent the building from being almost fully empty, the tasks assigned by the rangers had seen to that. Only Deborah, curled up and staring blankly at the bed, and Stone, sitting on the ground beside her, remained inside. Stone heard my approach and turned to face me, his helmet was discarded beside him, a hollow smile rested on his features.
"Still no luck, huh?" He asked, already knowing the answer. Surely I wouldn't be back if I had been successful. Still, I shook my head regardless as I fell to the ground, sitting by the foot of the bed as I practically threw my sword beside me.
"I slammed on that door for God knows how long, and they wouldn't even acknowledge it!" I said, reaching for the straps on my helmet. I had to fumble with them for a moment before I could properly grab hold of them and get them undone.
"Easy Liam, one of us needs a clear head if we're gonna get out of this." Stone joked. The fact he was able to find levity at a time like this absolutely baffled me. A groan escaped my lips as I nearly ripped the helmet off and slammed it beside me, my free hand furling and unfurling into and out of a fist several times. We would not be receiving any aid from the Elder, that much had been made clear. Compounding the issue was that I could equally assume his rangers and the militia would be of no help to us, and would likely default their loyalties to Kharion. In most cases I'd find loyalty of that caliber honorable, and in a way I still did. Now, however, it was just another problem I had to work around.
"If this comes down to Trial by Champion, one of us needs to be able to take down Belial. We can't afford any chance of failure, Kharion has lost his mind." I warned, I could only imagine what plans he was making in his war council. Stone sighed and nodded, leaning back and resting against the wall.
"That's assuming he even picks us at this point. He could just as easily pick Berrat or one of the other rangers." He argued.
"Then he would be a fool!" I barked, gripping the tip of my helmet tightly before I continued; "A ranger cannot utilize their hit and run tactics in a duel! You and I are the only logical choices!" I yelled. Stone shook his head and shrugged.
"You're preaching to the choir, brother." He said. Right as he was, it only made me feel worse. Of course Stone would agree with me on this, but what would yelling about this to him accomplish? He had just as much power to change this as I did, none. Our only choice was to somehow usurp the elder, but what could we hope to accomplish there? Not only would we be abusing our status, we would be dividing an already outmatched people on the eve of their destruction. That would help nothing, but neither would staying silent, even if said silence was being enforced by exclusion. So what options were there?
I shook my head and ran this question over and over again in my mind, seeking any solution. My authority was nowhere near strong enough to call for Blackstone to cease their aggression, the days of the Iron Legion's authority had long since faded. Calling for another round of talks would almost certainly be dismissed, if not by Blackstone, then certainly by Kharion. If Herongale's fate were to be decided by Champion, Stone or myself could volunteer willingly before Kharion had a chance to produce one. There'd be hell to pay after, but at least Herongale would have an honest chance.
"If it comes to Trial by Champion, you or I will move forward as a volunteer. We will not allow Kharion to dispute this." I asserted.
"And if it doesn't come to that?" Stone asked. I knew what he meant in an instant. The worst of all cases, treachery on behalf of Herongale. If that happened, any chance we had would be lost. Blackstone would see them as mere brutes, and that would mean that anything and everything was permitted against them, just like the Vikings or the Samurai. Honor would mean nothing. I dreaded the thought of an unbound Blackstone Legion...
"I don't know." Was all I could say. It was this uncertainty that drove me to look at Deborah, still curled up tight, eyes red and still wet from tears. She had yet to say a word since the meeting, she barely responded at all save from a nod or shake of the head. It pained me to see her so distraught.
"Deborah, are you okay?" I asked, rising to my feet. Stone did not follow my lead, but did turn his head to face her. She remained just as silent as before, though she did raise her eyes to meet mine. Faint bits of snot ran down her nostrils, just above her trembling lips. Even her irises seemed to shake, sending fresh tears flowing. It felt so wrong seeing her this frightened...
"Deborah, it's okay. It's just us. We're here." I said in the calmest and gentle voice I could, strong just in front of her on the bed. Hoping to ease her burden, I gently reached for her hands, taking one into my own and giving a soft squeeze. She looked at our hands for a moment, then sniffed as she used her free palm to wipe her snot and tears away.
"I thought... I wanted him dead..." She choked out. It seemed to take visible effort for her not to cry, swallowing her breath between her words. Stone shifted beside us, and I could see him stand in the corner of my vision.
"Belial, you mean?" He asked. Deborah nodded slowly, her face scrunching lightly as she continued to fight for her composure.
"I'd heard... stories of my old home. Blackstone, they took it. I wanted him... to be dead." She stammered, her breathing accelerated once more as she began to lose control. Now I had to fight back tears of my own. Seeing such a fiery young woman reduced to this was bad enough, let alone one I'd come to care for in such a short time.
"You didn't recognize his name, his voice, or his armor before now?" Stone asked. Whatever composure Deborah had left seemed to shatter in that moment. She clenched her eyes and began to weep, shouting out;
"I never learned his name! It was just Lawbringer! Lawbringer, okay?! No, I didn't recognize him! My dad was dying! He was dying and I couldn't help him!" I held a hand out and took her by the arm, gently rubbing her as I held a free hand to Stone.
"That's enough, Stone, leave her be." I ordered. Now wasn't the time to question her on her memory, she was far too distressed for that. To his credit, Stone seemed to realize his mistake, as he smiled sadly and hung his head. I focused my attention back on Deborah, who was now in full blown hysterics. Not knowing what else to do, I pulled her in close and held her against me. I gently stroked her back as I felt her arms wrap around me, holding on tight as she sobbed into my shoulder.
All I cared about in that moment was wanting her to feel better, everything else seemed so insignificant now. I gently shushed her as she continued to cry, her sobs interrupted only by the occasional gasp for air as she struggled. I felt so terrible for her, but what more could I do for her? I was powerless, a realization that only deepened my guilt.
"I killed him... I got him killed and now I'm killing all of us..." She choked out in between her tears. I could scarcely understand what I'd just heard. Did she really still blame herself for her father's death? Did she truly think she'd doomed us? How could she think that? None of this, and none of her father's death was on her hands. How could she not see that?
"No, no, Deborah you haven't killed us, you haven't killed him." I said softly. She inhaled deeply as she tried to compose herself, failing each time. I carefully took hold of her arms on either side and pulled her up, helping her to sit up straight. Her eyes were still clenched shut as I gently took her cheeks, wiping away the tears as best I could.
"Deborah, look at me. Look at me, okay?" I pleaded, taking one hand and gently rubbing her arm. The poor thing still had to choke back her sobs as she tried opening her eyes. When she had finally gained enough strength to hold on, she looked me in the eye, still mere moments from another breakdown. But she had pushed through, gasping, crying as she was, she was pushing. The thought was enough to put a smile on my face, a gentle smile as I rubbed her cheek, now moist with tears.
"You didn't kill your father. You haven't killed us, and I won't let them kill you. We're going to be okay." I said. Truth be told, I'm not sure how much I believed those final words when they left my lips. Would we be okay? The odds against us had only worsened with time, and I'd long ago stopped being an optimist about such things. No, that didn't matter now. Deborah needed hope, she needed something to hold onto. I would believe that promise, for her sake. Deborah inhaled and held herself as steady as she could, her eyes closing again as she whimpered and took my hand from her cheek, clenching tightly.
"I'm scared Liam... I'm really scared..." She whispered, holding my hand to her lips. I could only rub her arm and hold her hand tight in response. I knew she was scared, but hearing her admit it only made it worse.
"I know. It's okay." I reassured her. We simply sat there for some time, I honestly don't know how long. For much of it I feared Deborah would lose her strength and begin weeping again, but she pulled through. Before long much of the shaking had stopped, and she had finally managed to settle her breathing. Only a few stray tears continued to fall down her cheek. Stone, God bless him, stood by us the entire time, silent as the night. I was just about to speak when the sound of knocking broke the quiet. Strange, why would a resident of Herongale knock on the door for the bed chambers?
Before any of us had a chance to respond, the door began creaking open. Deborah slowly pulled away from me as she wiped what remained of the snot and tears, while Stone turned toward the door. With a final sniff, Deborah managed to compose herself and sighed, though I could tell the fear had not fully left her.
"The heck are you doing in here?" Stone asked the visitor, sounding more confused than angry or annoyed. Turning towards the entrance, I found myself wondering the exact same question. Making his way towards us, removing his helmet, was the cavalry captain that had escorted us back to the hamlet. What was he doing here? How had he been allowed inside? Though my instincts told me to grab my sword, I found myself fighting against that urge.
The Captain had fully removed his helmet by now, revealing a clean shaven and bright red face that bore no malice. The man appeared to be in his mid thirties, with dull brown eyes and neck length hair that matched its color. Perhaps most strange of all were the Blackstone colors on his armor. While the black seemed unaltered, it almost appeared as if soot or ash had been smeared over the orange, leaving it barely visible. Why? Was that intentional, or the result of a failed fire?
The Captain glanced away from me for a moment, observing Deborah as his expression softened, giving her a kind smile and a nod. Deborah simply turned away and curled back into herself.
"Blackstone, your task has been completed, why do you still linger?" I asked, finally pushing myself up to stand. To his credit, the Captain seemed to realize our apprehension, though the glare from Stone as he grabbed his flail certainly helped, I'm sure. The Captain gave a light bow before he pulled something out of his uniform, revealing a small, black leather bound book. A Bible, perhaps? Without answering our question, he opened the book to a page he appeared to have already prepared, and read aloud a verse.
"Hebrews 10:26 tells us; 'For if we sin wilfully after that we have received the knowledge of the truth, there remaineth no more sacrifice for sins'." My confusion only deepened at the man's recital. It was a true enough verse, but why read it to us? Even Deborah seemed to be brought out of her stupor, turning to face the Captain with a quizzical eye. The Captain then closed the Bible and stared at it a while, carefully patting it with his open hand. I took a careful step forward, watching closely for any move he might make.
"Why share this, Blackstone?" I asked. The man nodded, inhaling deeply before looking up towards me.
"A fair question, Lord O'Carrick." He said. Lord? Had he been told of my reformation of the Iron Legion? If so, by whom? The only ones who had knowledge of this were myself, Stone, and Deborah. I suppose the rulers of Castle Nov Domas were aware, but hadn't it only been Mercy that had infiltrated it? If it had been her, how had she learned this? I don't remember mentioning it in her presence... I tried to keep these questions to myself as the Captain thumbed through the pages in his Bible.
"I have been questioning the true purpose of the Blackstone Legion for a few days now. When this mission began I was... conflicted." He began, looking back up towards me. "It seemed wrong to me that we had become executioners of the very people we swore to protect. After seeing the Hero of Svengard alive and well, protecting those same people, many of my men shared that sentiment." He explained. I nodded and crossed my arms as Stone came beside me, leaning against the wall as we both listened.
"We have decided we cannot honor our oaths, nor our faith, should we choose to ignore these misgivings." He said, setting down the Bible. So he had decided to turn away from Blackstone as well, that would explain the vandalized armor. Perhaps by telling us this, he sought to join us?
"Would you be willing then, to stand with us? As members of the Iron Legion reborn?" I questioned. The Captain smiled wide as he stood straight and beamed with pride. I suspect he had been awaiting that very question. A suspicion that was confirmed when he placed a hand to his chest and bowed gently.
"It would be our honor, my lord." He said. I found myself smiling with him, even despite my misgivings. Yes, the timing was suspect, and for all I knew, this was an obviously laid trap to destroy us from within. Still, I couldn't shake the idea that the captain's words were genuine. Besides, I knew Cross' strategies of war, he wasn't fond of spies. Stone, it seemed, shared my thoughts.
"Well, I know Cross prefers direct combat, so I doubt this is a trick. What did you say your name was?" He asked. The Captain turned to face him.
"I am Abel Obadia, leader of twenty men, with as many horses." He answered dutifully. Twenty-one including him, then. A mounted heavy cavalry was far from enough to best Blackstone in direct battle, but it was a welcome addition. That would bring our numbers to sixty-five, if my memory served me well. Stone must come to the same realization I had.
"Well, that gives us three-to-one odds." He joked. Funny, I thought. It hadn't been long ago Stone and I had faced those same odds, and we had come through victorious. Obviously, this situation wasn't the same, but the echo didn't elude me.
"We have faced worse." I said, repeating the same words Stone had said to me that day. He smiled in acknowledgement, and nodded. I did the same, then looked behind me. Deborah had managed the strength to stand, clutching the blanket around herself tightly. For a moment, I worried that the thought of sharing quarters with former Blackstone was too much for her. Had I rushed a decision that made her feel unsafe? That worry was swiftly crushed by the look she gave me.
I'm not sure how to describe it, it was not a look of confirmation, nor acceptance, or even hesitation. It was a look that seemed to burrow into my very soul, as if in that moment, somehow, she'd connected her mind to mine. She never nodded, lifted her hands, or even made a move. Not a word escaped from her lips. Yet all the same, one message kept repeating over and over again.
"I trust you." It seemed to say. It was all I needed. I smiled at her, and for the first time since we'd left Blackstone's camp, she returned one. A soft, small, but precious smile that melted away at my heart. I would not betray that trust, nor that smile. With this conviction I turned back to Obadia, and nodded.
"Very well. I welcome you, Abel Obadia, as Cavalry Captain and First Vanguard of the Iron Legion." I declared. A realization dawned on me then, that our first company had been formed, the Legion was a proper fighting force once again. Obadia smiled brightly and extended his arm to me. I did the same, reveling in my realization as I took firm hold of my comrade's arm...
...And shook.