The Ranger (Book 1) (37 page)

Both David and Weston were leaning against the back wall of the abbey, laughing to each other over the antics of the children. If Vincent hadn’t seen with his own eyes, he wouldn’t have believed that Weston had been close to death just hours earlier. It reminded him of when he had first arrived at the Ranger encampment and for a moment he forgot the impending doom that hung over them all.

“Vincent,” a small voice called from behind him. Vincent turned just in time to catch the small boy that was flinging himself at him. Jace was smiling happily as the other children swarmed around Vincent.

Lauren quickly distanced herself so as not to be drawn into the hoard of children now trying to climb up Vincent’s legs. She joined David and Weston against the wall, laughing as Vincent struggled to stay upright.

Vincent put forth a valiant effort at remain on his feet with the children climbing over him, but one of the older children decided to join in the fun. He crashed into the group, finally toppling Vincent, who was now laughing just as hard as the children.

Jace moved quickly, sitting on Vincent’s chest, looking down into his eyes.

“We knew you’d come back,” Jace smiled. “Even when they told us you weren’t coming back we knew you would.” Jace seem very pleased with himself. “Are you going to stay and play with us?”

Vincent tilted his head just enough to see Lauren, who winked at him encouragingly. Vincent smiled, freeing his hands from under the other children who were trying to keep him pinned to the ground. He grabbed Jace from off his chest and jumped to his feet, sending the children lying across his legs tumbling to the ground as they laughed.

“I guess I can play for a little while,” Vincent said, setting Jace on the ground, “but you’ll have to catch me!” He set off at a light jog, going just fast enough that the children could keep up with him but not catch him.

The world seemed so much simpler as he laughed with the children. Time seemed to slow. He could have kept playing forever.

“Vincent!” The shout stopped him in his tracks and the children crashed into his back. Vincent looked to the source of the voice. Master Auna was rounding the abbey to where Vincent stood, once again trying to stay upright as the children tried to pull him down.

The look on Auna’s face told Vincent that something had happened, something bad. He quickly disentangled himself from the children amidst their cries of disappointment and hurried over to the Master Templar. David, Weston and Lauren all hurried over as well to hear the news.

“Things are not going as I had hoped,” Auna said as Vincent approached. “The Magi seem to have taken full control of the Empire. The force that marches against us is made up primarily of creatures from the abyss. At least one of the Magi marches at their head, and rumor has it that Thomas Honson marches with them.”

“So what are we going to do?” Vincent asked, grudgingly accepting the fact that the Thomas he had known was no more, “I can’t kill my friend.”

“Then pray to the Goddess that the barrier holds. As long as that stands they cannot get to us; but they’ve already started gathering at its border, and they’re sending patrols around its edge,” Auna said. Vincent couldn’t tell how Auna was feeling. There was a sound of despair in his voice, but his eyes seemed to show relief.

“But what about the refugees?” David asked, sounding concerned. “I thought the plan was to sneak them out through the woods. If there are patrols then the refugees wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“I know,” Auna whispered, “but there is nothing we can do about that now. The Eresians moved far faster than I had anticipated. It’s only been a few days and they’ve already gathered and are waiting. The Magi must have known we’d never hand you over to them without a fight.”

“What about the children?” Vincent asked, glancing back at the children, who were still playing, happily oblivious to what was going on outside the abbey walls. “They can’t stay here. They’ll be killed.”

“What other option do we have?” Auna said somberly. “They stand even less of a chance if we try and sneak them past the Magi and their army of monsters. I never intended for it to come to this, but it has. I just hope the Goddess will be merciful to them.”

Vincent’s mind flashed. He was standing in the cloister of the abbey building. Smoke was gushing from the windows and fire was pouring from the reception chamber. Bodies littered the ground, including the monstrous form of a minotaur. His breath caught in his throat as he noticed a small motionless form on the ground. Jace was dead.

His mind flashed again, and he was back.

“I’m not going to let that happen!” Vincent exclaimed, his anger showing in his voice. The others looked at him, confused. They had moved on to discuss defense strategy.

“What are you talking about,” Weston asked.

“Master Silva once told me that the dreams of a Pallàdrim were visions of what would be if we don’t do something to change them. I’m going to make sure that my dream does not become a reality. I’ll do whatever it takes to defend this abbey and those within it.”

“Glad to hear it,” Auna said, a smile on his face. “The Abbot may have been right. You could be the only hope for us. Do you have any suggestions that can help?”

Vincent thought for a moment. “If we’re going to have any chance of survival, then we’re going to need a lot more fighters than we currently have. We’ll need to train some of the refugees to assist in this battle. Anyone old enough to carry a sword should be given a chance to defend themselves. I don’t know how much time we’ll have, but we’ll need to start as soon as possible. Gather all the Rangers.”

“Vincent,” Auna said cautiously, “with the Abbot’s failing health, the barrier could collapse at any time.”

“Then we had better get started,” Vincent replied, trying to hide his own concern. “I refuse to sit here and wait for the Magi. If we are to die here, I want it to be such a death that the entire world will speak of it for centuries to come.”

Chapter 21: The Last Stand

Vincent woke with a yawn. A week had passed since they had started training the refugees to fight. They had made little progress, but at least they wouldn’t die without a fight.

He got out of his bed and stretched. He felt bad that he was still sleeping in the dormitories while the knights slept outside in tents. He had offered to join them, but Trent had forbidden it.

“What if the barrier falls during the night and they launch a sneak attack,” he had said. “It’s better to put more space between them and you.”

Vincent had tried to argue the point but to no avail. He looked over to Lauren’s neatly made bed as he put on his armour. She was already gone, as usual. She disliked being trapped inside and took every opportunity to get out into the grounds.

Vincent surveyed the golden mask for a moment before tucking his white mask into his pocket. Despite what Master Silva had said, Master Auna was the ranking Pallàdrim. Vincent had no right to wear that mask.

Vincent left the room, walking briskly to the stairs leading to the upper level. The dormitories seemed eerie without the other knights. His footsteps boomed in a hollow echo down the empty corridors.

As he made his way up the stairs he could hear the abbey bell ringing. It was a slow mournful chime. Vincent had never heard the bell ringing like that.

A sudden sense of loss fell over him.

He picked up his pace, moving at a light jog as he went up the stairs. The guard that usually stood sentry at the entrance to the Great Dome was not there. Vincent quickly looked around the cloister. There was a group of people spilling out of the sanctuary door.

He quickly moved to join them. The bell stopped and the abbey fell into complete silence.

“What’s going on?” Vincent asked quietly as he joined the group.

“The Lord Abbot is dead,” the man closest to him said without turning to look at him.

The words hung in the air like a death sentence. The abbot was dead.

Vincent stood in shock. Abbot Markov had been abbot since long before Vincent was born. While Vincent had never been particularly close to the abbot, he had always been a source of strength. As long as the abbot was there, they were safe. Now that safety was gone.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. It was pulling him away from the group. He didn’t know where he was being taken, but he didn’t care. He was still in too much of a daze.

“We’ve got to get you out of here.” The whispered voice pulled him out of his grief.

What? Who would even suggest that Vincent leave the abbey now? It took Vincent a moment to figure out who was speaking to him as he took in his surroundings. To his surprise the voice belonged to Trent.

“The barrier is already failing,” Trent carried on, still pulling Vincent toward the dormitories. “When it does we will be defenseless, and the Magi will come. We don’t have a chance of surviving that assault. Like the Abbot said, you are the only hope for the order. If you survive then you could rebuild, which is why we need to get you out of here.”

Vincent stopped, pulling his arm free.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Don’t start with that, Vincent. You know as well as I that there is no hope here. Save yourself while you still can.”

“I took an oath when I became a knight, Trent,” Vincent said firmly. “I swore that I would never abandon the Order, even if it cost me my life. I don’t intend to abandon that oath now.”

“But what happens when there is no order to protect?” Trent threw back. “What if you leaving were the only way that the Order would survive?”

“Then I would rather die standing beside my friends than turn my back on them and leave them to face their death alone. If it is the will of Sandora that I live, then it will be so. That is enough for me.”

“As it should be enough for you,” Lauren’s voice called sternly from behind them. “The Lord Abbot said that it was the will of Sandora for him to stay. Would you fight the will of the Goddess?”

Trent just glared at Lauren. She met his gaze until he looked away.

“Of course not,” he muttered quietly.

“Then I suggest that you return to your duties and organize the defenses of the abbey so that we are not left only to the grace of the Goddess to survive this.”

“Yes, your highness,” he mumbled as he hurried off, back the way he had come.

Lauren watched him go before turning to Vincent.

“You know, it would have been easy to accept his offer,” she said. There was a tone in her voice that sounded almost like respect. “A lesser man would have run. What made you decide to stay?”

“There are too many people here that are counting on me. What would it say to them if I left? I couldn’t do that to them, especially the children. Besides, if I ran now it would just make it easier for me run in the future.”

“Well,” she replied, trying to hide a smile, “it seems that Jason was right about you after all.”  She walked off across the cloister. Vincent thought there was almost a bounce to her step, but he was sure he was just imagining it.

He turned to start walking back to the dormitories, but he stopped short. There was a strange agitation to the air. He couldn’t quite figure out what it was, but something was different. A trumpet sounded from the front of the abbey just as a guard from the wall pushed through the crowd.

“Master Alexander,” the guard said breathlessly. For some reason the knights had taken to calling him ‘Master’ even though he did not hold a formal position. Despite his efforts to stop them, they had continued. Even a few Rangers had taken to using the title when they talked to him, and Master Auna seemed to be encouraging it. Vincent just sighed as the man continued. “Master Lowe wishes for you to come immediately to the wall,” the man said, tripping over the words as he rushed to get them out.

“Curse you Trent,” Vincent thought as he walked through the early morning light toward the front of the abbey. It had to be something to do with this strange feeling that had fallen over the abbey, he knew it.

As Vincent left the Entry Hall of the abbey, he knew there was something wrong, as every Knight, Ranger, and Valkyrie was standing near the wall, crowding onto the stairs and battlements to see over the top.

Trent was standing on the wall, right above the gate. Lauren was not far from him, a look of worry on her face.

Vincent started to push his way through the crowd of people. As the knights realized who was trying to push through they quickly made way.

“How may I be of service, Master Lowe?” Vincent threw in the ceremonial title to show his displeasure at the situation.

“Vincent,” Trent said, sounding relieved, “the barrier has fallen and the Eresians are marching against us. They will be here within the hour.”

Lauren edged her way to his side. Suddenly the air felt heavy. He looked northward up the road to where the Eresian would be coming. The sun had barely peaked over the horizon, yet not a bird sang in the trees. The forest around the abbey was still, as if in anticipation of what was about to happen.

Vincent could hear the footsteps of the approaching army. They were coming, just around the bend in the road. Not a man in the abbey dared make a sound as they waited. The sound of the thundering footsteps was growing steadily louder.

It was almost a relief to Vincent when the Eresians finally rounded the bend. Yet he could feel the anxiety of the men around him as they saw what they faced.

Minotaurs, gnolls, trolls, and ogres, along with other monstrous creatures; all heavily armoured, appeared around the bend. Like Vincent months before, most of these men had thought these creatures to be things of legend. Now they were faced with them in what could be their final moments.

Vincent could make out two distinct figures marching at the head of the army. One wore the distinctive cloak of a Magi; the other wore the uniform of an Eresian officer.

Almost instinctively, Vincent pulled his mask from the pocket in his cloak and tied it to his face. Most of the other Rangers were doing the same. Vincent noticed that Trent’s mask was now silver, as he took his place as Master Ranger.