Chapter Five - Return to the Temple

 The large group of paladins, two dozen strong, rode out of the castle.  They were followed by a wagon, filled with provisions and with space to haul back whatever treasures they found.

Dean Torn had decided at the last minute to go with them, and he now rode at the front, his long cape clasped with his insignia of the Knight Commander. 

 Since their talk in the garden, Lise and Oliver hadn't been able to connect again.  Separate schedules on opposite ends of the day kept them apart.  But now, they rode side by side, with Susana and their friend Patrick riding with them.

 “My father was unsure if he should come.” Susana whispered to Lise as they were passing through the thick walls of the castle.

 “Why not?  And if he had doubts, why didn’t he just stay here?  It’s not like he’s necessary for this mission. My father decided not to come.”  Lise said, watching their commander in the lead.  Dean Torn seemed distant, as if lost in a world of his own thoughts. His silence spoke volumes, leaving Lise to wonder about the true reasons behind his decision to join them on this perilous journey. The unease and doubt simmering beneath his stoic exterior were clear to her, even if he chose not to vocalize them.

 “I think there are too many terrible memories.” Susana shrugged.  “I wish I could go back and be a fly on the wall.  Can you image, having to take a vow to remain celibate?  I would have been washed out for sure.”  She laughed, glanced over at Patrick, riding a few feet away.  Apparently, the two were now seeing each other. Patrick was steadfastly ignoring the women, intent that he should appear dedicated to the task at hand.

 “You would have had your oath breaking tongue cut out, and made a pendant, just like my father.  In fact, you wouldn’t even have been a paladin.  You would have been burned at the stake,” Lise reminded her, her mouth turning down into a frown. It was like they all forgot the history of the order. Did any of them pay attention to their history books?

 “Oh yes, well. . .  they didn't let women serve anyway, did they?”  She mused, looking over at her father, who glanced at her with irritation.

 “Keep quiet. No chatting.” He barked at them.  Technically, he was right. This was a  mission, and they needed to focus on the surrounding woods. Although there were no bandits here so close to the castle, soon, they would enter the north woods.

 Oliver glanced over at her with a grin, and she stuck her tongue out at him. She  dared talk more, lest the commander get really vexed with her, and give her the worst duty as a punishment.

 As they rode through the city and then the countryside, the people smiled and waved.  The citizens held paladins in utmost respect. Anywhere they went, they were given food, shelter, drinks for free.  The paladins' popularity exceeded that of famous entertainers. The people of Eastmere believed in their magical abilities to keep them safe.

 They had left at sunrise, and if they pushed hard, they could have made it to the Temple the same day, but Dean stopped them about an hour away, 

 “I have no desire to camp on that cursed ground,” he said, his green eyes looking over the clearing where they rested.  He was anxious, pacing back and forth.

 From the provision wagon, the camp kitchen was set up by the young squires they had brought along to help, and soon, a hot pot of soup was bubbling.  From her backpack, Lise pulled out her wooden bowl and her spoon.

Sitting crossed legs on the ground in the circle of men, she enjoyed her soup, and drank deeply of the many skins of wine being passed around.

Surprisingly, Oliver came and sat next to her, but he said nothing. Their fingers brushed one another when she passed him the wineskin, and she longed to kiss him. She would have to wait.  Now was not the time.

The knights, as they normally did, told stories.  There were few old-timers still left who remembered the Temple, most had retired or passed away.  “Dean, tell us what it was like to grow up under the thumb of the Master,” Patrick asked, full of joviality.

 Dean took the wineskin and drank deeply.  Which was odd because she had never seen him drink while on duty.  He wiped his mouth on his shirtsleeve, and then his eyes fixed on Patrick.  “What story would you like?  The one where children were beaten for minor offenses, or the one where I watched a friend get his tongue cut out and heard his screams?” 

 They all fell quiet, and Patrick looked uncomfortable.  “I’m sorry, Commander Torn.  I forgot myself.”

Dean shook his red hair, and Lise couldn’t help but notice the white threads.  His eyes settled on his daughter, and his face turned hard.  “You young ones forget the struggle we went through to give you all better lives.  My own daughter . . .” He trailed off and realized that the entire company was watching him.  It was rare was for him to talk of the past.

“Anyway,” he cleared his throat. “I took the oath.  The one we no longer take, and it meant the world to me at the time.  I took it seriously, and it was a big thing for me to turn away from the Temple and follow Rordan Armond. Think of how different your life would be if he had failed.”

Lise shuddered.  She would still be living in Duvall, and she would have never known her father.  Her brother wouldn’t be king. Instead, Rory would be a paladin like her.

Oliver reached over and squeezed her hand, and then spoke, “There are a few of us, not quite so old timers, Dean.  You forget of the small boys you rescued.”

“True.” Dean's eyes fixed on him, and looked over to another knight. “You were young at the time. You remember.”

“Aye.” The man said from the back of the group.  He stood up and looked over at the young knights.  “I remember the uprising, and I remember watching Rordan ride back into the Temple courtyard, with the army from Duvall, and burn the place down.  Many of the boys I grew up with fled east, determined not to bend the knee to the King of Duvall. They took their oaths seriously.  I had not taken mine yet.”

“All the better.” Dean said, taking another drink. “So, you’ll excuse me if I am not happy to return to my past home and dig through the ashes for old books and trinkets.  It is a time best forgotten.”

They all were silent for a moment, and then Susana smiled, “How about a funny story then? You all remember that time Patrick here found the drunk stuck in the well, half drowned and screaming for help?”

They all laughed, and the talk turned to the current trials and tribulations of being a paladin knight.  Lise couldn’t help but notice that Oliver was quiet.  After a while, he got up, and went over to Dean, and said a few words.  Then, he went to find his bedroll, and she watched him pull out a small bible and flip through the pages.

Leaving her friends at the fire, she went to him and crouched down.  “The story bothered you?” She asked.

Oliver looked up, his finger on the page.  “You’ll never understand, Lise.  Go to bed.”

His words stung her deeply. She stood up and turned her back to him.  Fine, if he was going to shut the door on her, she wouldn’t ask.  Maybe it was better not to know the demons that chased him at night.

***

The group rode into the remains of the Temple courtyard.  It was overgrown now, and the ruins of the barracks stood to one side. It was the most ruined of the buildings.

The Cathedral complex she and Oliver had explored just a week ago loomed over her. She felt a shiver go down her spine as she looked at the dark windows on the second floor.

“Dean, where was the bell tower again?” Oliver asked.

“I think it’s that pile of rubble there,” Dean said, pointing out a pile of stone and timbers at one end.

“That’s what I thought.  No bell. What did we hear?” Oliver said, glancing at Lise.  She shrugged.

“Okay, we are looking for the remains of books. Rordan asked that we take anything we find. He wants scraps of paper, books that look ruined, artifacts that remain. I imagine this place has been picked clean of the most valuable items, but you never know.  Be careful and please work in pairs.  You see or hear anything strange, let me know right away,” Dean said.

“There are ladders, shovels, and bags in the wagon.” Susana said, lifting a burlap bag.  “Don't be afraid to use a little force.”

Dean turned to Oliver and Lise. “You two, come with me.  We are going to tackle the Master’s study again. Show me that hidden bookcase you mentioned.”

They walked into the cathedral, and a small group of young Paladins followed them in and began picking through the ruined pews.  

Lise and Oliver examined the ruin of the stairs.  Dean sighed. “It’s not going to be easy to get up there now.  You men, help move away this debris.”

The young paladins began moving away the boards and splintered wood. Lise put the ladder near the wall, so that the top run went all the way to the dark hole of the open study door.

“I guess I’ll go first.” Dean said with a shrug, climbing to the top.

Lise gulped down her apprehension and put her foot on the wooden rung. She climbed up, feeling the smooth wood under her hands, sweet beading off her forehead.

Dean followed right behind. “I don't like this,” he mumbled. “Why again are we coming back here?”

They reached the top, and it was as quiet as a tomb.  Even the birds had flown away.  

She surveyed the room and saw the hidden bookcase was ajar.  “We closed this.” She said, her brow wrinkling.

“We did. I remember.” They looked at each other as Dean ran his fingers over the spines. 

“I was never allowed to access this information.  It was reserved for the Master’s favorites.” He took a tome off the shelf and placed it gingerly into the burlap sack.

“Take them all,” Lise said, looking around at the desk, stained with bird droppings.  She opened the drawer and was surprised to find it untouched.  Quills and bottles of long dried ink lay waiting, and there was even a brass stamp bearing the Master’s seal.

A crumpled parchment, half finished, lay on the bottom of the drawer. She pulled it out, her forehead creasing.

They are coming for me.  I will hide in the darkness and spring my trap  

She shivered and laid the paper down.  Then Oliver caught her attention.

“We’ve almost got this bookshelf cleaned out,” Oliver said, holding up a heavy bag.  He handed it through the doorway to a paladin standing on the ladder, who handed it down gently to another below him.

“Look what I found,” she said, pointing to the letter.  Oliver walked over to the desk and looked down at the paper.  

“Creepy,” he said, shaking his head.  “The paper is old.  Rordan and Dean fought him in the barracks attic, so this fits.”

“Of course.” Lise said, nodding and turning towards the ladder.  It was empty now, and she glanced behind her. “Are we done up here?”

“For the most part,” he assured her, his eyes glancing towards a side door that led to the back apartments. Sunlight poured in through the ruined windows. Nothing seemed odd or menacing. “I want to explore those apartments, but I can do that later.  It looks like we might be here for a day or two.”

He followed her down the stairs, and they went to the old library building, where most of the books were ruined.  

Even so, the knights hauled away boxes and boxes of book, old and moldering.  

Lise took a box, lifting it into the back of the wagon, and pushing it towards the front.  Already, the wagon was half full.

Then, turning to head back, she spotted Dean in the courtyard, holding what appeared to be a branding iron.  A look of distaste was on his face.  He glanced up when Lise approached.

 “Look, one man found this under some rubble.  It’s the brand that marked the pendants with the P on their left shoulder.  I don’t know whether to bring this back as an artifact or throw it in the river.”

 Lise looked at it closely, the same plain P she had seen on her father’s shoulder so many times as a child.  She felt sick, thinking of that same hot brand pressing into her father’s flesh, marking him for life.  “I don’t think anyone wants that, Dean.  Get rid of it!” She said, more forcefully than she intended.

 “Yes, you’re right.  It’s disgusting,” he said, throwing it in a discard heap.

 “Lise found a note in Master Simeon’s old desk,”  Oliver said as Lise pulled out the note and handed it to Dean.  

 He looked at it carefully, and he nodded. “A valuable piece of history.  The note is incomplete.  I imagine him sitting up in his study, hearing us riding into the courtyard.  He knew he could not win against the Order of the Fallen, and his time was up.”

 “He commanded us children to fight,” Oliver said, his face looking haunted, “And I was his heir, so I was to lead them.  I decided it was foolishness and convinced most of the others to lay down their swords.”

 “Father.” Susana said, coming out of the ruins of the children’s barracks. “Patrick and I found something amazing.”

 Dean looked up, slightly irritated.  “Susana, I’m Commander when we are on duty.”

 “Of course, Father.  But you must see this,” she said, grabbing his hand.

 They all followed. The entire company pushed into the ruins, eager to see what great treasure had been uncovered.  The old paladin’s barracks had not fared as well as the stone cathedral. Charred timbers from the partially collapsed floors above blocked the stairs.

“That lead up to the sleeping room, and the bunks,” Dean said, looking at the ruins, then he pointed to a small door, laying in front of a pile of rubble.  “That was the door that led to the attic.  Rordan fought the Master upstairs. Rordan ran a sword through him and left his body in the fire.  His bones and ashes are probably still there, as morbid as that thought is.”

They all looked silently at the small door, and then at the collapsed ruins.

“No, that’s not what I wanted to show you.  Look here, on this beam,” she said, smiling.

Carved in the beam, in clearly childlike letters, was a list of names. Zach, Dean, Brandon, Rordan, Augustus.  

“Hades.” Dean whispered, his face going white.  He grabbed the wall and looked like he was going to faint, clutching his chest.

“Are you okay, father?” She asked, 

“No. Seeing that is like seeing the ghosts of dead friends.  I carved that when I was a young boy.  We all used to sneak up to the attic, after lights out, and stay up all hours talking.  Augustus died first, in a training accident with a Noorse bear, right before we were to take the oath.  Zach Demilo died while helping Rordan escape, Brandon Duchard retired and moved east years ago.  Now only Rordan and I remain.” 

They were all silent, looking at the beam and the history it contained.  Finally, Dean looked up. “There won’t be much else to take from here, I’m afraid.  And no one cares if Simeon’s bones are given a proper burial, so let’s get out of here.”

They went out to the courtyard.  “I don’t want to sleep in the shadow of this ghost town,” Dean said, grumbling.  But there was no other place to camp. The former fields that had surrounded the temple were overgrown with brush.  It made little sense to move down the road a few miles just for the night, so they set fires and prepared to rest.

The rest of the paladins settled in, but Lise was feeling disquiet.  She looked over at Oliver, who had his eyes closed, and was leaning against the stonewall of the barracks.

“Walk with me, Oliver?” she asked.  His blue eyes flicked open, and she saw a flash of pain. She wondered what he had been thinking about.

“Of course,” he said, getting to his feet.  “Let me give you a brief tour from a former resident of the temple.”  

He took her hand, ignoring the snickers and glances from the other paladins, and led her away from the fire.  

“Are you okay?  I feel you and Dean are dealing with a lot,” she said, searching his face.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said, waving away her concerns.  “Just memories clogging my mind. The courtyard, where we are camping, used to be the young one's training ground.  Cassius the ass beater ruled his students with fear.  More than once, I watched a boy get beat with his stick, and I was on the other end more than once.”

“My father doesn’t talk about it a lot. Sometimes he mentions friends of his, but then his face gets dark, and he shuts down.”  Lise said, feeling his hand in hers. They walked past what looked like coops, thrown haphazardly behind an old barn, missing its thatched roof.

“Oh, those are from the pigeons.  You know, we still use them to send messages to Duvall, and our towns, but the Temple used them first.  When the pendants arose, most of them were poisoned, but the ones still here are probably relatives of those birds.”

They walked a little farther on, and came to a well-worn path that lead straight to the east.  “These were all fields, Lise.  Your father worked right here.  I would come here many times to collect him from the overseer for my lessons.  Over there were the barracks where he lived.” Oliver pointed to a long stone house. It had been far enough away to be untouched by the fire that had destroyed everything else, but the roof had caved in years ago.  

“This makes it all so real,” Lise whispered, looking around at the now rough and wild fields.  Not far away, a tangle of grapevines was all that was left of the vineyards.

A single pole stood near the edge of the field, and Lise could see metal loops driven into it.  Instantly, she knew what it was for. “This was to punish the pendants, wasn’t it?” She said sadly, her fingers touching the wood where so many had suffered.

“Yes.” Oliver nodded, his eyes haunted.

She looked off to the east and saw the trees. They looked dark and foreboding.  “And this was the way my father and Zach escaped, crashing through the woods at night.  Hades, I never thought I would see this place in person.”

“It’s a lot,” Oliver said with a sigh.  She turned to him and placed both her hands on his heart. 

“I’m sorry for your pain,” she said, her face looking pained. “I wish I could take it away.”

“Oh, dear sweet, Lise.  You do take away my pain,” he said, smiling as a single tear escaped his eye.  He bent down and kissed her, gently and sweetly. “I’m glad I could be the one to show you this place.”  

She took his hand in hers, and they walked back silently to the camp, where they sat down next to each other, still lost in their thoughts. Ignoring the others, who looked at the pair curiously.  

© 2023 Jessica Kemery, Hot Mess Express Publishing