Connin
33rd Day of Summer, 997th Year of Grace
The camp stretched for miles across the wastelands like a second city of canvas and sand, reeking of blood and smoke.
The Cardinal had told me to rest and await her summons so I spent the last two days wandering from fire to fire, doing what little I could.
Sometimes it was binding an injured soldier's wound with white linen. Sometimes it was reciting a prayer for the soldiers who had already fallen in the ambushes done by the enemy before I had arrived. Sometimes I spent my evening giving company to soldiers and listening to them talk of home.
I had become well-known among the soliders and their eyes brightened whenever they saw me approaching.
At night, when the campfires died and silence stole the air, I knelt down in my tent and prayed to the Lord for strength and guidance.
On the morning of the third day, the horns were sounded--their sound carried over the barren flats by the wind like the bellow of a wounded beast.
Men scrambled from their tents and I saw officers straightening their uniforms while some captians saddled themselves upon their horses and declared the arrival of Marquis Edward Graceford, Governor of Belmire.
I saw him seated upon his horse, dressed in steel polished enough to blind those who dared glare at it directly. His dark hair was peppered with gray, his square jaw clenched tight, and his presence made soldiers stiffen into attention.
His men rode behind him in disciplined lines, banners whipping in the desert wind. They bore a silver falcon--the crest of House Graceford.
I did not cheer as other did.
I only studied him as his gaze swept across the soldiers, over the captains and briefly touched me.
He gave no sign that he had noticed me. Yet, I felt a strange weight in that moment--as though I had been measure and found lacking.
***
The summons arrived by evening.
Every high-ranking officer was called to the central pavilion--a great tent where the Cardinal held her war council.
When I arrived at the tent, I found the air heavy with incense and a long table at the center with a map of the western borders spread over it.
The nobles and commanders stood around the table--Lord Edward among them.
I found Raegan Dusborne seated at the head of the table, dressed in crimson robes edged with gold. Her scarlet hair were braided and pinned beneath a silver circket, her eyes burned like embers glimpsed through ash.
The giant blade I had seen on her back the other day was nowhere in sight.
When she rose, all others bowed.
I followed suit.
"Raise your heads," she said and the men obeyed.
She let silence linger for a moment before gesturing to a captain standing rigid near the maps. "Speak."
The captain swallowed and began: "Three days ago, I dispatched a platoon of thirty men to scout the northern ridges. They were to return by sunset the following day but there has been no word from them till now."
Murmurs rippled through the pavilion.
Lord Edward's voice cut through the whispers. "Desertion?"
The captain shook his head. "It's not possible, my lord. They were loyal men from the southern province. I'd stake my life that they didn't flee."
"Then they were slaughtered." Another noble spat into the sand near his feet. "Those Serovian curs have sharper teeth than I thought."
"No." The Cardinal placed a hand on the table and the tent went still. "A slaughter leaves corpses. A slaughter leaves blood, or steel, or any trace of the deed. But the riders sent to follow their trail found nothing. There was no body, no blood splattered on the sand or any broken blade. There were no prints in the dust beyond the ridge."
"What do you suggest, Your Eminence?" Lord Edward asked.
"I suggest that this was no work of men," she said. "I believe it was done through witchcraft."
Witchcraft.
That word struck harder than any blade.
The Cardinal let the silence stretch, watching the unease bloom on every face in the room. Then she spoke the phrase none of them dared believe.
"It was done by a Calamity."
A murmur erupted at once but she raised a hand and quiet filled the tent again.
"I assume you have all heard the stories," she continued. "Villages where every soul vanished without trace. Cities where people went mad and killed each other off. I suspect that Serovia has allied itself with the Covenant and has a Calamity supporting them in this war."
Disbelief painted some faces while dread painted others. Lord Edward's jas tightened.
"If that is true..." he said slowly. "Then this is no rebellion. Serovia has sided with evil and must be purged."
"What are your thoughts, Edward?" The Cardinal asked, speaking his name as if they had been familiar for years. "What should we do?"
He hesitated for a moment. "We cannot retreat as that would invite Serovia to push deeper into our lands. But to advance blindly without knowing the full extent of their forces would be folly."
A general slammed his fist against the table. "Then we must call upon the Church's arsenals! The Cardinal should summon the miracles we've heard preached of and burn these heretics to ashes."
"It is not as simple as you think." The Cardinal smiled faintly. "His Holiness, the Pope, has forbidden me from using my abilities in battle to massacring the enemy. I am only allowed to use the full extent of my powers if I am faced against a Calamity."
"So what should we do?" Another noble asked.
"For now, we wait," the Cardinal answered. "Tomorrow, we shall send a squad to investigate the ridges thoroughly. It is also meant to draw out the enemy."
Her gaze turned to me, followed by a hundred more eyes and my chest tightened. "Connin Martyns, you are to be part of the squad--"
"Why a kid?" A boorish general interjected.
The Cardinal smiled wider instead of retorting. "Despite how he looks, he is ranked a bishop."
"But still--"
"Are you doubting my judgment, Eric?" she asked and the general shut his mouth tight. "Well, Connin is also the renowned Oracle. You must have heard of him before."
The hundred eyes bore into me and I bowed. "I am but a servant of our Lord, Your Eminence. My gifts come from His blessings."
"Modest child." Her smile deepened and she turned to the table. "The council is dismissed for today."
As the men filed out of the tent, her gaze found mine once more and she winked at me before stepping out of the tent herself.