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 7

Earnest had taken a stamina break and was on his way back to the battlefield when he heard the horn sound three long piercing blasts - the battle was over. Corvintheus and his army were defeated by the Castle Angels and friends. Rather than continue on his way to the fighting, Earnest changed direction and went to his tavern, The Diova Gruss. It was always the first place the Angels would stop on their way back to their homes and he felt he should prepare for his patrons’ arrival. They always lingered over a pint of cool ale while they regale the others of tales from the battlefield, compare wounds, and brag about how many of the enemy fell by their swords. It was a place to laugh and unwind with friends who understood the hardships of battle. But most of all, the tavern was a place for the Angels to gather and check who was alive – a roll call of battle survivors.

As Earnest predicted, the Angels began arriving in small groups. The Diova Gruss started filling up with battle-worn Angels; some with bandages, some with crutches, some with blood-stained clothing but all with the weary relief of victory. Those that had been injured sat at the tables and others stood around talking. As Earnest filled order after order for food and drinks, the laughter became freer and the noise level inside the tavern increased. He liked seeing the place like this. Not that he liked battles because of the toll it took on the warriors, but that they felt comfortable to stay, mingle, and share. THAT was always good for business!

He took a quick look around him as he kept pace with the demands. Deamon was here and was sitting with his twin brothers, Deamon666 and Bone Face. They were sitting along the back wall by the hepzabilas and keeping to themselves although it looked as if Kathryn was hobbling towards their table to join their group. Deamon saw her coming on her crutches, her right leg bandaged tightly, and offered his chair to her. She had sustained a nasty wound and Larien had told her to not put her weight on it. Caro and Cat sat two tables to the left from them and were chatting with Bernardo and Susana. Bernardo had his left arm in a sling. King Sylvain was at the table in the corner and it looked like he, Tian and Yiel were in deep conversation already. Miro and Jovan were at the end of the bar already enjoying their drinks, laughing loudly, and slapping each other on the back. Stefan, Monah and Iva came through the tavern door. Jovan glanced up and saw them approaching. He waved them over to join Miro and himself. Stefan had his head wrapped in bandages, the blood still seeping in a small pool through the gauze. Iva was favoring her left foot and slowly limped over, leaning heavily on the single crutch under her arm. Actually, the Angels had fared well in their fight with only small injuries and no deaths.

“Hey, Earnest, can we get a pint all around for our table?” Poul was sitting at the closest front table with Alina, Becky and Russ. All four had varying amounts of blood spattered on their clothes. Russ’s left sleeve was torn close to the shoulder and a pink stain could be seen underneath. He didn’t seem to be bothered with any discomfort by the wound, although it probably needed to be dressed before the end of the night.

“Sure, I’ll bring them right over, Poul!” Earnest shouted back. He turned and started filling tankards with fresh ale.

As he carried the four mugs over to Poul’s table, the door open and Carl, Butch and Zigaroth came in. All three men had a look of seriousness about them and not the jovial back-slapping and laughter of the other patrons. They headed for the corner table on the right side of the dining area, the furthest from any of the other occupied ones.

As they started to pass the counter, Jovan raised his glass and shouted for all in the place to hear, “Corvintheus and his army are dead! Cheers to the Castle Angels! Another strong victory for us all!”

Those within the tavern looked up from their various conversations at Jovan’s toast, raised their glasses, and yelled back almost in unison, “Here, here!!”

With everyone in the Diova Gruss yelling their toasts from table to table, they did not hear the arrival of Larien Arcamenel, the Angels’ Elf Queen. Earnest was wiping down the counter and happened to look up because the breeze from the door opening wafted over him. Larien looked at him and smiled a weary smile. He nodded back at her weak greeting. He thought she looked tired and worn, as if she was carrying the weight of the Angels on her shoulders. Earnest watched as she took stock of those already celebrating, her eyes focused on Russ’s arm. She stopped at his table.

Larien knew that Russ had not come into the tent to have his wound dressed. It didn’t look too bad from here, but it still needed to be cleansed. She put her small hand on Russ’s good shoulder to get his attention.

Startled, Russ looked up at her and smiled, “Hello, my Queen. Would you like to sit and celebrate with us?”

“I really should look at your wound, Russ. As a cleric, you know how quickly infection can set in. Let me at least clean it.”

“Oh, I will be alright,” Russ replied, excitement over the victory still strong in his voice. “Come, sit down with us. You have been very busy these last few nights. I don’t think that you slept more than a couple of hours as you were always awake when I left for a few hours and you were still awake when I woke up. We cannot have you falling ill!”

Larien briefly closed her eyes and when they opened she quietly agreed, “Thank you, Russ. I think I will sit as you suggest.” She smiled. Russ noticed that her smile did not reach her eyes.

Russ gave her his chair as he left to borrow one from another table. He had known Larien for a long time and knew that there was more on her mind than just weariness from healing, something about the battle – maybe about Corvintheus. If she were true to form, she would tell them about it before the night was over. He would place bets on it if he could get any takers. He chuckled under his breath, like anyone really would! They knew her just as well as he did!

Earnest brought another glass to the table, placing it in front of Larien. After a couple of sips, she started talking softly.

“Do any of you know who we just battled?” As she looked around the faces of those at her table, she could read the confusion her words brought. “Corvintheus, the leader of the army we just defeated, is a demi-god.”

Poul exclaimed, “Corvintheus was a demi-god?” His voice increased in volume – his facial expression shocked, “You mean to tell me that WE, the Castle Angels, just defeated a demi-god?” His animated actions attracted the attention of the other Angels. They ceased talking, one table at a time, and all turned to the table with Poul and Larien. Larien could feel their eyes swivel towards her; a look of puzzled amazement and confusion could be found on their faces.

“Yes, one of his army caught hold of my ankle on the battlefield. I gave him aid to ease his pain. Before he died, he told me about his leader, Corvintheus. Corvintheus’s quest was to rule this land with absolute righteousness and power. He also felt that kingdoms are built on sacrifices and that those sacrifices would be made by anyone who would not follow HIS path. He is no longer the man that people worship for THAT Corvintheus would not oppress those that strive for their own form of righteousness. The demi-god has, in his impatience with us mortals, turned to oppression and tyranny in his attempt to unite the land.” Larien’s voice became quieter as the Angels leaned closer. “You know the blinding white light that we saw on the battlefield?” she continued after several nodded their heads that they had indeed seen the flash of light. “That was Corvintheus disappearing. There wasn’t any trace of Aurelius either. I searched for their bodies but couldn’t find them. Both of them left their army behind to fall to our swords. All those we just killed were sacrificed for Corvintheus’ misguided righteousness and greed.”

Larien continued, her voice weary from the stress and strain of the last few days, “Even demi-gods can become evil under the guise of helping people. The Castle Angels will need to continue to prevail against these injustices and overcome these evils. We need to continue to fight for those that are oppressed. We need to bring light and truth so it will overcome the darkness that may encompass our world. We need to continue to fight with our convictions against those whom we feel will destroy us. Let THIS be our pledge and our toast this night.”

The tavern was quiet and those Angels within its walls could still hear Larien’s words echoing in their minds as she stood and slowly made her way out the door and into the dark night.

created originally 1 June 2011

SALVATION FOR THE FALLEN Chapter 6

Morning found Bartholomew well rested. He said good bye to Shadow and made his way down the mountain and to the Castle Angels’ Keep. As he walked, he felt a nervous energy building inside. He had waited so long for this moment to happen and now that he could physically see it in front of him, his stomach was in knots. What if all that he knew was wrong? What if the little conversation he had with Kirey were just the ramblings of an old man like Yerik? What if this whole quest was nothing but searching for a bone in a graveyard? What if this Carl person will not be able to help him?

Each step brought Bartholomew closer and closer to the tavern where he would soon learn some of the answers…or so he thought. The village was already starting to wake up. He walked past the blacksmith’s. That was strange! At first glance, it looked like two women were working the fire and anvil. That seemed a strange job for females but he shrugged his shoulders. Who was HE to say what was normal anymore…he had a dragon! He walked further down and around a corner and there, on the side of a building, hung a sign that read, “Diova Gruss Tavern”. He stopped abruptly and so did his heart. He was here. Bartholomew took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Then he put one foot in front of the other, walked to the building, and opened the door.

Purpose

The sun was so bright that when he first opened the door to the tavern, he was blinded and couldn’t see the darkened inside. He sensed that everyone turned and looked at him. As Bartholomew let the door close behind him, his eyes became accustomed to the dim interior so that he could make out those patrons scattered about the tables. There was a serving girl standing next to a table, laughing at something the man had said. There was a colorful bird along the back which looked iridescent in the sunlight from the window. There was a young man, probably about his age, standing behind the counter. There were two gentlemen sitting at a table finishing their meal. He had the feeling that his arrival caused all conversations to end abruptly.

Bartholomew nodded his head in a single greeting to everyone at the Diova Gruss. He was not surprised that conversation quit the minute he arrived. He was a stranger in their midst. Trying not to let it affect him, he walked up to the young man at the counter. “Hello, there. I was wondering if there was a man named Carl here? I believe he is one of the owners.”

Earnest looked up from what he was doing and he said, pointing to the table with the two men who were finishing their meal, “Yeah, he’s over there. You looking for work? We don’t have any openings at the moment.”

“No, I was told to come here and see him. Thank you.” Bartholomew approached the table. He still didn’t know which man was Carl. One of them looked to be in his 50’s, slender build with strong, capable hands that showed he was not afraid of work. His face was kind and when he smiled it reached his eyes. His hair was graying and not overly long. The other man looked to be older, maybe in his 70’s with white bushy eyebrows and longish white hair. He was sitting there smoking a pipe that looked vaguely familiar in shape. He had seen one like it recently. It looked exactly like the one Kirey was smoking in Morridin. He gave a little shake of his head trying to erase the memory and approached the table.

“Excuse me, gentlemen, but I was sent here to talk to a man named Carl. Would one of you be him?”

Carl looked up at Bartholomew and said, “Hello, Butch. Why don’t you sit down with us?”

Holding the bowl of the pipe in his hand, the older man pointed the tip at Bartholomew and asked, “So, boy, you hungry?” He made a slight wave and a nod to Earnest without waiting for Bartholomew’s answer.

Bartholomew didn’t know what to say first. First, his father’s name was Butch although that was a nickname that he had back in Dragon Mountain that a few older people used. But why would this man call him by that name? Second, the older man greeted him just like Kirey did yesterday, even to the same jester with his pipe. And, third, he looked very familiar! He said the first thing that came to mind, “Sorry, my name is Bartholomew.”

Carl looked hard at him and after a few seconds said, “Nope. You look like Butch to me. Come, join us. I am Carl and this here is Zigaroth.”

Bartholomew walked around the table to one of the vacant chairs. As he sat down, he looked more closely at Zigaroth. Zigaroth just sat quietly, smoking his pipe, the bowl in his hand. He took it out of his mouth and again used it to point at Bartholomew and stated, “Yes, I agree with Carl. You are the spitting image of Butch. So much easier to say than Bartholomew, too.”

“As you wish, sir. That is my father’s name and the villagers often called me by that name too.” Butch’s smile included both men. “However, my business is with Carl.”

“Well,” Zigaroth replied again emphasizing with his pipe, “Actually, your business is with both of us, Butch.”

Earnest brought some food and placed the plate in front of Butch. “Here’s the lunch special. The bread and pastries are Carl’s pride and joy so make sure to tell him you like it!” Butch was hungrier than he thought he would be so started eating almost immediately. By the empty plates in front of the two men, they had already eaten and he didn’t need to wait for permission. None of the men talked but let Butch fill his belly.

Carl watched him eat and waited until he had a few bites remaining. Then he looked Butch in the eye and stated, “So, Zigaroth tells me that you brought Shadow with you. After you finish up here, I want you to take us to him.”

Butch’s heart stopped, the last forkful poised half-way to his mouth! His face turned white as the fork fell from nerveless fingers and clinked against the pewter plate! He felt panic well up inside him and at the same time, his heart started racing again!

Zigaroth looked at Carl and said, “I think we better go. This is not the place for this conversation. Come, boy, follow us.” With that, he rose from his chair and started walking, not once looking back to see if Carl or Butch were following him.

The three men left the tavern retracing the steps that Bartholomew, or Butch, had just walked. Zigaroth was leading the way as if he knew just where Shadow could be found. Butch was not sure what to think anymore. Zigaroth looked so familiar and, if he didn’t know any better, would have said that they had met before today. Carl had a familiarity about him that he could not place, either. It wasn’t just in looks but in his mannerisms, the way he was walking and carrying himself. They reminded Bartholomew of his father in Dragon Mountain. He thought that by coming to the Castle Angels, he was going to find answers to the questions he had about dragon riding and the big war. Now, Butch was finding himself with even MORE questions that needed answers! He felt himself in quite a confused state and it was a very unsettling feeling which he didn’t like.

Zigaroth took them right to the cave where Shadow had been left. As Shadow came out and went over to Butch, Butch took off his glove and put his hand to Shadow’s head. Then the strangest thing occurred while they stood connected. It was a familiar sound accompanied by air movement. Both Butch and Shadow looked up towards the sky. Descending from the sky from higher up the mountain was a gold dragon. The gold dragon landed, walked up to Carl, and greeted her with his hand placed between her eyes.

Butch was speechless; his eyes big and his mouth wide open.

Carl turned and looked at Butch and simply said, “We are going riding. Mount and follow us.”

Both men mounted their dragons and were taken up, around, and over Tonathium Mountain with Carl and Baroness taking the lead. Butch and Shadow followed the older pair. It was quiet riding through the sky together, the only sound being the flapping of the wings of two dragons. The sun would be setting in a few hours but Butch wasn’t paying attention. He wasn’t really thinking anything other than, maybe, just maybe, he would get some answers to his questions. After all these years of hiding Shadow, worrying over all the “what ifs”, he might have found someone he could talk to, relate to. And with that realization, his heart soared even as Shadow soared with Baroness. Butch did not pay attention to where they went or how long they rode together, just that it was two men with their two dragons.

Butch realized the ride was over when he saw Zigaroth standing exactly where they had left him. Both men landed their dragons, touched their hands, and turned to walk towards Zigaroth. Carl was the first to speak.

“Zigaroth, we must get to the inn immediately and sound the alarm. I spotted an army approaching from the south and it is of good size. We must send the Call to Arms to the Angels. The army is almost upon us so we do not have time for any delay.”

Then Carl looked at Butch, “Butch, we are about to be engaged in battle. Tell no one of what just happened with the dragons. We will talk soon. However, we must act swiftly and have no time to waste.”

All three men, walked swiftly back to the Keep. Carl rang the alarm as the sun set.

created originally 1 June 2011