Chapter 8: Meeting the High Priest

Something twisted, hard and sharp, in Sorin's chest, and it was not the Goddess conveying some message. He did not know what it was, and he was not in the mood to figure it out. "Koray?"

"What?" Koray asked, eyes snapping back to Sorin, features hardening again.

"Is something wrong?"

"No," Koray said tersely.

Sorin frowned. Two marks or so he had known Koray, and he'd yet to stop feeling confused. Who was he and why was he so confounding? Sorin could only stare at him, looking for some clue that would lessen his confusion.

Koray was no polished knight, but the lack of spurs did not lessen the fact he was clearly a hardened soldier. Though his clothes and sword were worn, likely obtained second- or third-hand, they were well cared for. Various pouches were affixed to his belt, stuffed full of only the Goddess knew what. Even at a distance that smell of incense was apparent, intriguing. And the hair … he'd heard of necromancers countless times, the oddly streaked hair that marked them as plainly as armor marked the knights. It looked strange, but it somehow only added to Koray's beauty.

"If you're done gawking at the necromancer," Koray said, "might we move along with whatever you are about? Is this where …?"

Sorin made himself focus, furious that he'd gotten so sidetracked by staring like a halfwit. "No. That's in the keep. I am taking you to meet the high priest, and in the morning I will take you to see his Majesty."

Koray grimaced, but said nothing, finally leaving the entryway and slowly moving toward Sorin. He paused halfway there, obviously not aware he had done so, eyes on the windows.

If the keep was a masterpiece of defense, the cathedral was the heart of worship. A great deal of money had been poured into the cathedral back when it was built, and the people tithed generously to ensure it was maintained.

The floor was smooth, gray stone tile, alternately carved with the various symbols of the Goddess: the sun, moon, stars, and blossom. The same gray stone also made up the walls, columns, and arching roofs. The walls alternated between panels carved with prayers and windows of colored glass depicting images that went along with the prayers. Those who could read the panels memorized the prayers that way, and those who could not read were able to learn them by way of recitation and the pictures.

At present, the Cathedral was deserted save for a handful of priests lighting candles and tending other chores while they stood the night watch. During the day, it could be anywhere from moderately full to completely packed, with people standing in clusters or sitting on chairs and cushions brought from home. Sorin always liked the quiet moments best.

Perhaps sensing his arrival, Angelos stepped through the door at the back of the main altar. His eyes landed on Sorin, and he nodded briefly. His gaze then shifted to look past Sorin and his eyes widened when they landed upon Koray.

"High Priest," Sorin greeted, sweeping him a courteous bow. "Your prophecy has already proven true; I introduce to you the necromancer Koray, bidden by the Goddess to come and assist me."

"I see," Angelos said, eyes still on Koray. "Sent by the Goddess, you say? I have never known necromancers to do the Goddess' work."

"That is because you're an ignorant fool," Koray snapped. "We have always served the Goddess the same as any priest, any paladin. Our magic may be strange—to serve a stranger purpose—but she guides me the same as either of you."

Angelos frowned. "If you were a servant of the Goddess, I think we would know—"

"When have any of you ever done more than dismiss us?" Koray cut in. "Ignore us? Beat us? We were always there, doing the work She bid us do."

"What, precisely, is the nature of your work?" Angelos asked, stepping down from the altar and drawing closer to them. "Necromancers deal in death. You banish ghosts, though I know not the purpose that serves."

Koray's lips curled. "Even the high priest himself is ignorant of us and the work we do to keep Vindeia safe. Pathetic."

"We will hardly cease to be ignorant if you are not willing to unbend and explain to us what we need to know," Sorin replied. "If people do not speak to you, it's because you are rude and condescending every time you open your mouth. Were you one of my knights, I would give you a thrashing sound enough you'd be too sore to sit down for a week."

"Do try," Koray taunted, smirking. "I am no one to trifle with, My Lord High Paladin."

Sorin started to give a cutting response—but his words were prevented when Angelos suddenly burst out laughing. "Enough, you two," Angelos said. "I will call for a late supper and you can eat it while you explain everything to me. Come." So saying, he turned and strode off, leaving them little choice but to follow.

Stifling an aggravated sigh, Sorin stalked after him, pointedly ignoring Koray as he came up on Sorin's left. He'd just put one foot in the High Priest's office when the bells began to ring with a fury, a cacophony of noise that had a single purpose: to rouse every inhabitant of the castle.

Turning sharply, Sorin ran full tilt through the cathedral, outside, and down the steps, across to the stable where his horse was already being prepared. He ordered two men to fetch his equipment, and by the time his horse was ready, they were back with his full armor and additional weapons and helping him put it on.

A familiar form caught his eyes, and he looked over and up at his already mounted second-in-command, Emel. "Where? What?"

"The village of Greymore."

"Ride out, Emel. Take what you need. We'll catch up. Watch yourself."

Nodding, Emel turned his horse about and began to issue orders. Seconds later, the ward emptied of a significant portion of the men who had been filling it.