SALVATION FOR THE FALLEN Chapter 12

Finn, Deamon and Larien were at the Council Chambers and setting up for the upcoming meeting. The couriers had been dispatched to both King Sylvain and Zigaroth. While she had been at the tavern, Larien had spoken with both Susana and Caro to let them know of their possible presence at the council meeting. As Larien laid out her parchments, she thought of how she would approach the subject of the upcoming battle. She already knew that there might be friction between Zigaroth and Deamon, as each man barely tolerated the other. Ever since the banishment of Bone Face and Deamon666 to Freedomia, Deamon was barely civil to Zigaroth. She really couldn’t blame him. He felt betrayed by the battlemage when he cast his final vote in favor of the banishment of the twins. That was long before she was on the Angels’ Council. At the time of the Council’s decree, it comprised of King Sylvain; Zigaroth; Kelan, Duke of Morridin; King Farren Arcamenel; Egemen of the Dwarven Council; Kewel the Blacksmith; and Fëanáro Sáralondë. The vote had been split with those in favor of the twin’s exile being King Sylvain, Kelan, and Egemen and those against being King Farren, Kewel, and Fëanáro. The tie breaking vote was cast by Zigaroth and he voted in favor. Deamon never seemed to accept the verdict or the person who cast the deciding vote. He never questioned Zigaroth as to why he voted the way he did. To Deamon, it was just a slap in the face for his brothers and himself and gave him the feeling that they really didn’t belong to the Angels. That was one of the leading reasons that he became the Master of Whispers.

Larien looked up from what she was doing as Tuls walked into the chambers with King Sylvain. The men were talking quietly together as they entered. They stopped as they saw the others already there.

King Sylvain spoke first, saying, “Hello everyone. While I wish this meeting was under different circumstances, I am glad to see you all here. Finn, it has been a long time, my friend.” Sylvain held out his hand to Finn and slapped him on the back after the hand shake. “You remember Tuls, don’t you?”

Finn replied, “Hello King Sylvain. Yes, Tuls and I saw each other just last month in the woods.” Finn took Tuls extended arm as he continued, “How are you my friend?”

Tuls cleared his throat. “We are fine. However, I feel that is about to change after the news from the messenger you sent over, Finn.”

“Yes, well, I believe that Larien and Deamon have some interesting news to share with the Council. I think that we will be able to start as soon as Carl arrives from the tavern and Zigaroth gets here from wherever he has been hiding We had half expected him to be at the tavern tonight.” Finn folded his arms across his chest and continued, “I think I hear Carl coming now.”

Sure enough, Carl’s boots were soon heard on the stone steps as he approached the door. He nodded first to Sylvain and then to the others as he walked over to where the men stood. Larien was still at the front of the room and Deamon was leaning against the wall under the window closest to where she worked. As Carl was making his greetings with the King and Tuls, Zigaroth came striding into the room, his white hair a bit messed and his robes flaring out behind him from his haste to get to the chambers. His voice was loud and commanding. “Hello everyone. I am sorry I am so late. Let us all sit down so we can understand why this meeting was called.” His piercing eyes looked at each person in the room as all took their appointed seats around the oval table - all but Deamon who continued to stay where he was against the wall. Deamon preferred to be able to see each person’s face when Larien started talking.

There was a little niggling in his gut that gave him pause that someone in this very room could actually have a hand in the potential death of his queen. He tried to keep his thoughts sheltered so Finn would not be able to read him. He had a lot of practice with Larien over the years that he hoped might also work with her brother. He didn’t want to reveal more than he needed to and only when he was ready to do so!

Larien looked small as she stood in front of the Council members, her parchment papers strewn in front of her. She looked up and spoke quietly, “Gentlemen, thank you for coming here tonight. I have grave news to share and we will need to discuss our plans regarding our course of action. Please hear me out before you ask questions.”

She looked at each in turn and all seemed alright with her request. Larien continued, “Our Master of Whispers, Deamon, informed me earlier this evening that we have several armies advancing on our Castle. They are coming from the south, east and west. All three armies also have orcs amongst their soldiers.” Larien paused so that each man could absorb the impact that the news gave. “I had hoped that we would be able to meet them on the plains but that will not work. They are much too close. According to Deamon, they will be here in just a few short days. Therefore, this does not give us much time for planning; hence, the meeting tonight rather than on the morrow.”

King Sylvain spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully, “So, you are telling us that we will have to battle all three armies here on the castle grounds at the Angels’ Keep?”

Larien looked down at her trembling hands and then up at the men, “Yes, that is what I am saying.” She took a deep breath before continuing, “I have thought long and hard about this ever since Deamon brought it to my attention. I have been looking at the old plans of the castle and the areas around it. I do not think we can get away with any other course of action, Sire.”

The King sat with his fingertips touching and his chin resting on this thumbs. Larien saw him close his eyes. His body was still as he sat and thought about all she had said thus far. Zigaroth sat in his chair with his face raised to the gods, his hand absent-mindedly caressing the jewel at the top of his staff. Tuls was fingering his beard, pulling it and twisting it around his finger. It looked as if his thoughts were also twisting inside his mind in time with his fingers. Carl’s arms were crossed and Larien could see his fingers tapping his arm in keeping with whatever thoughts he might have had to her news. Finn just sat there, not moving his body, but Larien saw that his eyes moved from one man to another. She suspected that he was trying to read their thoughts. Larien glanced quickly over to where Deamon still stood. He had not moved since the meeting first started. Deamon seemed to be like her cat, Sapphire, who wanted to be a part of what was going on around her, but kept herself apart from everyone else. Larien also noticed Deamon’s eyes as they traveled from one man to the next, waiting and watching to see what transpired. He seemed ready to anticipate each man’s response to the news. His stance was loose but Larien knew that he was at the ready for anything that might happen. She just prayed that they could get through the meeting before anything regrettable was done or said.

Carl spoke up, “Larien, I take it that you have some ideas for this upcoming battle? I notice that you have the plans for the village and Keep lying on the table. What ideas have you brought us?”

Carl’s question jerked Larien’s thoughts back to the matter at hand. She picked up one of the drawings on the table. “We have not had to defend our walls in many, many decades. However, our forefathers prepared well for this day. I suggest that all of our women who are not fighters take the children and go into the underground chambers deep in the mountains. They have only to take the essentials with them – food, water, and clothing and then secure our cattle in the areas prepared for them. Tuls, maybe your people could look to make sure everything is safe in the mountain caves before we gather. All other items can stay in their homes. If they are damaged by the invaders, then we will just replace them as needed. There is plenty of room in the mountain caverns to accommodate both our people and our livestock for a long while quite comfortably.” Larien continued as she saw the nodding of heads around the table.

Larien placed the map in the middle of the table and secured the curling corners with heavy stones. Pointing to several locations on the map, she continued, “Next, I suggest that we inspect and prepare the pits. We have about two dozen placed between the Castle’s two outer-most walls. We need to inspect these pits and take inventory of their condition. Please Carl, if you and your men would do the inspection at first light and give me your recommendations immediately, which will give us an idea where we stand. I have already alerted Caro that she may need to make some additional spikes, especially since orcs will be among the invading armies. She said that she and Cat would be ready to fire the bellows as soon as word is given. Tuls and Finn, we may have need of your blacksmiths as well if the number is too large for Caro to handle alone and since we are up against a massive time constraint. Will that be alright?” Both men nodded their heads in agreement.

Carl questioned, “Do you want me to keep the pits open after we do our count?”

“Not unless the women and children are already safely away from the area. We do not want anyone accidentally falling into the pits. They are reserved for our incoming guests, not our own Angels.” Several smiled at Larien’s last comment and broke a bit of the tension that all were feeling. “I know that it will be extra work having to go back over them but it will be the safest. If you have several crews working together, it will cut your time down considerably. And, as you know, time is critical at the moment.” Larien finished her presentation with, “So, my friends, what do you think? Will this work along with our catapults and warriors?”

The men around the table stood to have a better look at Larien’s maps. They started talking amongst themselves, fingers pointing and comments made accordingly. Zigaroth moved away from those crowded around Larien, walking slowly, deep in thought. He stopped across the room from where Deamon stood resting against the wall. Deamon slowly drew away from the wall and, after looking over at the small group at the table, walked to the other side of the room. Zigaroth looked up from his contemplation.

Deamon acknowledged the old battlemage, “Zigaroth.”

“Deamon,” was his reply. “You want to speak with me?”

“Yes, old man, I do. I find myself needing your assistance. I have further knowledge about this battle than I shared with Larien. There is only one other that knows of this and that is Finn.”

“Finn knows of something more? Why have you not told Larien?” Zigaroth quizzed Deamon.

“I do not want her to be aware of this bit of news. And, I only come to you because I may have need of your eyes, ears and knowledge.” Zigaroth took out his pipe and lit it with a flick of his fingers. He took a few puffs waiting for Deamon to continue. “My informant also told me that there is a high commander in one of the advancing armies that is planning on killing Larien. That MUST not happen!! Furthermore, we do not have his name so I cannot send my assassins to take care of him.”

Zigaroth pointed the pipe at Deamon and asked, “You are sure of this?”

“Don't you think I would make sure of this detail? Yes. His orders have been given that no one but him will be allowed to ‘touch’ the Elf Queen. It will be his pleasure to kill her. Zigaroth, I know that we have not seen eye-to-eye over many things in the past several hundred years, but I take the Queen’s safety very personally and very seriously. My informant has always given me accurate information so I must treat this the same way.” Deamon’s voice became more intense as he continued talking. “Someone is going to try to kill her. I need to know either how someone could succeed or what form of protection she is under.”

Zigaroth leaned heavily against his mage stick, his fingers grasping the crystal in the top hard. Deamon noticed the whitened knuckles of his right hand. He also noticed that the battlemage’s shoulders hunched over ever so slightly. If Deamon didn’t know any better, Zigaroth looked like he had been hit in his stomach. Zigaroth’s furrowed brow brought his white bushy eyebrows closer together. He removed his pipe with his left hand before speaking to Deamon in a low and controlled voice. “I am sorry but I cannot tell you what you seek. As the protector of all the Angels, and especially regarding Larien herself, I cannot divulge that information to you. If she chooses to tell you, that is her choice. It cannot be mine.”

Deamon’s eyes blazed, flashing piercing ice blue danger warnings as he stepped menacingly closer towards the old man, “Are you saying that you will NOT help me protect her? Are you implying that I would put her in harm’s way should I know this information? That I would actually do that to Larien? That I would do that to someone I love? Maudit!!!! You are a fool!!”

Zigaroth held out his hand to the advancing man as if that slight gesture alone could stop him and help him see reason. “Mark, please stop and listen to me.”

Deamon’s raised voice brought the eyes of the others in the room to where he and Zigaroth were talking. “Do not ever call me that name again, old man." His voice continued in controlled fury, "You lost that right a long time ago when you sent my brothers away from here, away from the Angels, away from me! I am now the Master of Whispers and feared by many. Since you will not help me, mark my words, do NOT get in my way of what I will have to do. You know better than most what I am capable of doing!” As Deamon turned to walk away from Zigaroth, he looked contemptuously at the battlemage and spat at him. Deamon delivered his last remark with venom dripping from his words, “Remember, Battlemage, I will do whatever it takes!!”

As Deamon strode from the room, all eyes watched his departure; all wondered what had made him so angry and were totally shocked and surprised with his parting remark. Only Zigaroth was left with shadowed eyes and fear in his heart – for Larien, for the Angels, and yes, even for Deamon.

created originally 7 September 2011

SALVATION FOR THE FALLEN Chapter 11

The three of them entered the Diova Gruss Tavern. Even though it was long past the normal dinner hour, many of the tables still held those Angels that remained behind from their dinners. They were talking and getting caught up on the happenings around the village.

Deamon looked around seeking the faces of people he didn’t know. There were two people towards the back of the place that he didn’t readily recognize. He made a mental note to find out who they were and where they were from. His eyes continued to scout the room looking for Kat. Now, there was a woman who made friends quickly and seemed to get lots of information while serving the tavern’s patrons. She was probably in the back kitchen helping Earnest with the clearing up. He made a mental point to ask her what she knew about the two strangers. He also had to get caught up on any recent gossip going around town. One of his jobs, as Master of Whispers, was to keep track of the goings on around the village. Then he would be able to help keep not only the Angels safe but Larien, too. Kat was in the perfect place to hear things; people having too much to drink end up talking too much or she’d flirt with them and they would start bragging. He always followed up on each tid-bit she gave him. No matter how small it seemed to Kat, all were important to him.

Larien was searching for the council members that needed to be told of the impending meeting. She spotted Carl clearing a table over by the hepzabilas. She didn’t find Zigaroth anywhere in the main room. She would have to ask Carl if he was in one of the rooms upstairs. Caro was here with her twin sister, Cat. It looked like they were finishing their dinner and having a bit of Carl’s apple pie. Susana was over to the left sitting with Saori and Bernardo. The three of them looked like they were in a deep discussion. Their faces were intent and their voices low. Good, it looked like she would only need a courier for two people – King Sylvain and Zigaroth.

Finn was tuning into the thoughts of those left in the tavern. While he knew many of the Angels by name from stories Larien shared with him when she came to the wood, he needed to put faces to those he “knew”. He was hoping that by reading their thoughts, he would be able to put faces to their names. It was a little game that he liked to play. He really enjoyed surprising people he first meets if he can call them by their name before they are formally introduced. He quietly chuckled to himself thinking of the fun he would have with the Angels this time around. He knew the council members since he had been to several meetings over the past several hundred years and they already knew of some of his abilities. However, this was a first battle for an all-out assault on the Angels’ castle that he could ever recall so more Angels would come into contact with him. Ha, ha, ha. He also didn’t think all of the Angels knew how Larien came to live among them and not with her own kind. Not that he minded her not living with the elves because it gave him certain advantages that he wouldn’t be able to enjoy should she actually live there. Now if he could have the authority to make the really big decisions, he would be a very happy man. But the only way that would happen would be if something happened to Larien. Finn pulled his thoughts back to the problem at hand, thinking he would analyze the other thoughts at a later date when he could think them through more clearly.

“I’m going to get a tankard of drink, Larien, while you round up your people. Do you want anything from the bar?” Finn questioned the two people standing next to him.

Deamon responded to Finn’s request first, “No, none for me, merci. I would like to see if I can catch up with someone to ask them a couple of questions. Larien?”

“Nothing for me either, Finn. I see Carl over there so I will alert him to the meeting. Caro and Susana are also here so I will chat with them quickly to put them on the alert. We should be able to go on to the meeting in a few minutes.” Larien was already moving in the direction of where Carl was. “Enjoy your drink, Finn.”

Each one went their own way. Each was wrapped in their own thoughts. Each had their own agenda to reach.

Larien walked back to where Carl was clearing the tables. He looked up and smiled when she approached. “Hello, my Queen. How are you today?”

“Hello, Carl. I am doing well. I worked in the garden earlier today. I should be having some produce for you to use in a few weeks’ time.” Carl glanced up and looked across the room. Yes, there was Deamon chatting with Kat and, if he wasn’t mistaken, that looked like Finn at the bar. Larien continued, “Deamon found me at the glen after my gardening.”

Carl stopped what he was doing when he detected a change in her voice. “What’s wrong? Please, sit down and tell me what is on your mind.”

He held the chair out for Larien to sit down and pulled another out for himself. His eyes were intently watching the changes cross her face. He could tell by her quiet demeanor that this was very important news or she would not have sought him out in such a secluded area of the tavern. She would simply have said hello and waved her hand at him. Adding Larien’s mannerisms to the fact that both Deamon and Finn were here did not give him a good feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Larien reached across the table and rested her hand on Carl’s arm. “We are soon to be under attack, Carl. Deamon has informed me that three armies are advancing on the Castle Angels. They are not coming from just one direction either but one army each from the east, south, and west.” Larien could tell that Carl was about to talk when she continued, “We cannot meet them on the plains as they are too close for that and,” Larien’s voice lowered further, “orcs are within their ranks.”

Carl’s sharp intake told Larien that he understood the seriousness of what she said. “Carl, I am calling a Council meeting now to discuss our strategy. I need you in attendance. Finn has already sent word for Tuls to meet us there. I need to send someone to tell King Sylvain. Is Zigaroth upstairs by chance?” Carl shook his head no. “Then I need to send for him, too. I will have Caro and Susana on stand-by in case we need their expertise.”

Gravely, Carl replied, “I will be there. Let me take these dishes to the kitchen and let Earnest know that I have to leave. I think we should wait to tell the Angels what is about to happen until we have the plans in place. Am I right, Larien?”

“Yes, Carl, you are. They will know soon enough and this way they will have a good night’s sleep at least. We can ring the bells at first light.” Larien patted his arm as she got up. “We will get through this challenge together. Our Angels are good, strong, and dedicated fighters. We also have a little warning which most villages don’t have due to Deamon’s informants.”

Carl looked deep into Larien’s eyes and still read something there that she wasn’t voicing. “What else is bothering you, Larien? You and I go back a very long way and I can see something in your eyes that you are not sharing with me now. What is it?”

“You are far too observant, Carl. There is something more but it’s not something I can put my finger on. Finn and Deamon were giving each other strange looks at the house. Their conversation ended quickly when I came out of the house. There is nothing I can put my finger on right now. And you know Finn can block me out so I cannot read him and I still cannot read Deamon. So, they could have been talking and I wouldn’t know what it was about. I just feel,” Larien hesitated trying to find the right words to use, “unsettled, I guess.”

“Go, and let Caro and Susana know and send the news to Sylvain and Zigaroth. I will just finish my work here and be right over to the Council Chambers. You will discover the cause of your unrest soon enough, I’m sure, Larien.” Larien gave him a weak smile. Carl stood and started to gather the dirty dishes and finish clearing the table as Larien left to deliver her news to the others.

created originally 7 September 2011

SALVATION FOR THE FALLEN Chapter 10

Deamon broke the silence that had accompanied them from the glen through the woods. They both seemed deep in their own thoughts. Deamon’s thoughts were of his concern for Larien and Larien’s thoughts were with the upcoming meeting and the Castle Angels. Deamon spoke softly so he wouldn’t interrupt the natural noises of the night or alert anyone that might be hiding in wait for them, “I will walk you to your front door.”

“Thank you, Mark, but you don’t need to do that. There are a few things I have to gather before I go to the Council Chamber. I can meet you there,” Larien replied softly. Deamon halted their forward movement with a staying hand on her forearm. His voice was quite emphatic in his response to her, his blue eyes direct and piercing, and his voice rising slightly in strength and pitch. “No, I will walk you to the door and I will wait for you.”

Larien turned her head quickly to look at Deamon after he delivered his ultimatum. He rarely spoke to her in that tone of voice. Either he was extremely concerned about the upcoming meeting or there was something else on his mind. Deamon certainly was acting strange. He always had taken great care of her and her well-being but he seemed especially fixated on it tonight.

She debated quizzing him further when they came in sight of her home. As they approached, he held out his hand for the key to the side garden door. She sighed, resigned. As she placed the key in his hand, Larien noticed that Deamon’s eyes were scanning the distance from the woods to her gate. He seemed extraordinarily alert and at the ready. Deamon now had that air about him that she had long learned not to question. It was THIS Deamon that made him successful as the Master of Whispers and helped him extract information from less willing people. It was best to do his bidding when he was in this mood. However, his actions and precautions were causing her to feel uneasy. As he opened the gate, Deamon noticed that it did not squeak like it did earlier in the evening and that he had to actually use the key and not just jiggle it opened. If he thought his senses were keen before, they were now on full blown high alert! Someone either was here or had been here!

He didn’t want to alarm Larien anymore than he already had with his insistence on getting her key. So, as he returned the key to her, he kept his voice low and steady. “Here’s your key back, dear. Please make sure you always keep it in a safe place and keep this door closed and locked at all times even if you are in the house.”

“Okay, Deamon, as you wish,” was Larien’s only response as she took it back and put it into her skirt pocket.

He wanted to be ready just in case there was an ambush set-up so his right hand slowly went to his sword’s hilt resting at his left hip. Deamon wanted to push her behind him but knew that was not going to be a valid option. He didn’t want to alert her to specific danger until he found the source. Besides, she did not have any of her weapons with her, so she was not prepared to defend herself. Her sword was most likely hanging on the peg by the door along with the dagger hidden in the belt. Larien also had not worn her boots to the glen so she didn’t have the dagger from there either. He really must convince her to change that habit of going to the glen without any weapons, but he will save that for another time and discussion. For now, he needed to concentrate on the problem at hand. His eyes scanned her garden for potential hiding places, trying to use the moonlight to look into the shadows of the house and trees. He sniffed the air to see if there were any tell-tale smells that shouldn’t be there, like smoke or an unusual fragrance. Nothing!

Larien sensed the new behavior change in Deamon but she still didn’t know why. He seemed to be more protective of her since coming back from the glen. They had come back from walks many times and he had never asked for the gate key upon their returns. So, why now? And, she saw his hand move to his sword as if he might have need of it. This was her home. Why was he acting like this? It was times like this that she really wished she could read his thoughts. As soon as this realization came to her, another followed swiftly on its heels. She stiffened. Larien hurried a glance at Deamon’s face, now sensing just how alert and at the ready he had actually become. She closed her eyes, tuning into the thought waves that were coming toward her.

It was just at that moment that Deamon caught the slightest movement in the shadow of the tree closest to the front door. His arm shot out and stopped Larien’s forward movement and he tried to put her behind him as he placed his body between the potential danger and Larien. Maudit! He sensed that Larien was about to speak and he hissed under his breath, “Sshhh…say nothing!”

Again, Larien’s eyes shot to Demon’s face. After seeing where he was looking, she too turned her gaze to the front of the house. The person came out further from the shadows, making his silhouette noticeable in the moonlight. Because the moon was at his back, neither Larien nor Deamon could make out the facial features of the intruder standing before them. Deamon was pulling his blade free of its sheath when Larien gave an excited yell and broke free from Deamon’s clinching fingers. She ran towards the shadowy figure.

“Larien, come back – NOW!” Deamon raised his voice in command and grabbed again at her arm with his left hand but Larien shrugged him off and continued towards the house. As the figure came into full view in the moonlight, he increased his pace to get to her side, his sword in hand, his eyes dark with fury, ready to defend Larien’s life.

Deamon quickly covered the distance between the two of them but not before Larien threw herself into the arms of the waiting stranger, squealing, “FINN!! You came!”

Deamon’s forward movement almost thrust his sword into Finn. “Finn Arcamenel? Maudit, is that really you? Why did you have to hide like that? Mon dieu! Didn’t you know the danger you were in?” Deamon questioned sternly. His heart pounded in his chest as he put his sword back in its sheath.

Finn chuckled, “Sorry, old man, but I thought Larien would tell you that I was coming here so I didn’t think about making my presence more obvious.” Finn had his arm wrapped around his sister’s waist as he turned his head to look at Deamon. “She told me that she needed me to come to her immediately. I think you were in the glen at the time so I figured I’d beat you back to the house.” Finn had a little devilish smile as he continued, “Oh, and Deamon, I was the one who fixed the side gate door. I knew you were worried about it and I had a bit of time waiting for you to come home. The squeak is greased and I got the lock to working again. Hope you don’t mind.” He delivered the last of his message with a pointed look. Deamon knew by Finn’s look that Finn knew of the danger to Larien’s life. He still didn’t have the ability to block Finn from reading his mind. One day, he hoped that he would but not at the present time.

“No, not at all. We are all going to be busy over the next few days so that is one less worry on my mind.” Deamon extended his right hand to Finn. “I’m glad you are here. We were just stopping so Larien could get a few things on our way to the Council Chambers. Larien will be calling a meeting and it’s important that you are there as a representative for the Elves.” Finn grasped Deamon’s hand with a firm shake, his eyes looking into Deamon’s. Finn gave a slight nod in acknowledgment that he knew of additional dangers and that those dangers pertained to Larien. Finn would wait to discuss it with Deamon when she wasn’t around.

“Before coming here I also sent a messenger to the Dwarven Council for Tuls since I knew that time was of the essence. He will be meeting us in the chambers shortly. So, I understand there are three advancing armies of thousands and they have orcs with them. You know that this is going to require finesse and timing.” Finn looked down at Larien and then at Deamon. Both nodded their heads.

Larien spoke, “Yes, we are very aware of the seriousness of what is about to unfold. I am glad that you are here to assist the Angels, Finn. With having to defend just about the whole of the castle, we will have need of every able bodied warrior, both from the elves and dwarves. Unfortunately, we do not have time to send word to any surrounding towns for their assistance. The signal fires can be lit, but I cannot wait for any answering replies. We do not have time to wait for that. If we get reinforcements, it will be a bonus. The Angels have to plan on this battle as if we are the only ones available to fight the advancing armies.”

Larien, still being held by Finn, pulled away from her brother’s embrace and said over her shoulder as she walked up to the house door, “I’ll be right back. I just want to put these clothes in the house and get my bag and parchments about the castle grounds. Then we should be able to go.” She took her key out and opened the front door. Finn walked to the front left corner of the house so that he and Deamon could talk quietly without the chance of Larien overhearing what they had to say.

“So what did your informant say exactly, Deamon? And, more importantly, is he trustworthy with his information?” Finn questioned.

“All he said was that he was told by one of the high ranking army members that they were not to touch Larien. They were to keep away from her and she was to be dealt with by a high ranking commander. The problem was that he didn’t give that person’s name, or his description, or which army he is in, just “high ranking commander”.” Deamon looked towards the front door to see if Larien was coming back before he continued, “He also did not know how they were going to kill her. I tried several different methods to see if he really knew but he just wasn’t telling me. It seems that he, ah, really didn’t know.” Deamon continued as he looked at Finn intently, “Larien never told me the specifics of just what special protection she has and I’ve never had a real reason to ask her before. I just assumed, or at least hoped, that this day would never come! If I ask her now, Larien might become suspicious of the reason I was asking especially after nearly running you through with my sword! I still cannot imagine anyone having a grudge against her sooo badly that they would want her dead!” Finn could hear the frustration in Deamon’s voice as he continued, “I just don’t understand! The Angels only fight for their personal protection. We do not seek out wars nor do we hanker after others’ lands. Your being here tonight just showed how vulnerable Larien can be even in her own house and grounds. Please, Finn, any light you can shed on just what her protection is can help me. I don’t like that I have no more information than that and the fact that she has never shared it with me before today.”

Finn shifted his weight and answered in a questioning tone of his own, “Truly, you really don’t know what protects her?” Deamon shook his head no as he passed his gloved hand across his face in frustration.

“Would I be standing here wasting both of our time if I knew, Finn?”

As soon as Finn took a breath to answer Deamon, both men heard Larien rattle the door handle as she crossed the threshold and started closing the door behind her. “I’m ready to leave,” Larien called out to the men. She was carrying her satchel filled with rolled papers of the castle layout. As Larien reached Deamon, he took them from her as he and Finn walked on either side of her down the path and out the gate. Finn closed and locked the gate securely behind them all; testing it to make sure it had latched properly.

They were going to walk the relatively short distance to the tavern so they could let Carl, Duke of Morridin, know of the emergency meeting. Larien was also hoping to find Zigaroth there. That would mean that they would only need to send a courier for King Sylvain. Finn already said that he had sent word for Tuls to meet them there. So with Sylvain, Zigaroth, Carl, Deamon, Finn, Tuls and herself, that completed the mental list of those needed at the Council meeting and ensured all key areas would be represented for the upcoming battle strategy. Larien was still contemplating bringing Caro into the meeting for her blacksmithing skills and Susana for her building prowess. Perhaps if they were at the tavern, Larien could just let them know that they might be needed in the meeting as well and have the ladies be prepared if a courier came for them. Larien was still wrapped up in her thoughts as they rounded the corner to the street where the tavern sat, Deamon a bit ahead of her and Finn walking behind.

created originally 6 September 2011