In fair weather such as there was, the portcullis of the great castle was raised and its drawbridge lowered. The only thing that stood in the way of an intruder’s easy access through the outer wall was a single guard armed with only the sword that hung off his left hip. Though he did not look all that impressive, anyone who had heard the numerous legends about the exploits of the Knights of Miriat would know one soldier was more than able enough to hold those doors from almost any number of would-be-invaders until more of his comrades could be summoned. And the likelihood of a significant enemy force approaching the castle and still finding the drawbridge and portcullis in their current positions was not great. There were other powers at work that would protect and warn the people of this greatest castle in all of Antora.

“We are here to see the Heir.”

The guard had stationed himself directly in front of the doors of Miriatom Castle upon first seeing the approaching strangers, absently griping the hilt of his sword as he eyed the pair warily. They stopped just short of being within striking distance. “There have been no messages of coming visitors to the palace on this day,” said the guard gruffly in a rich baritone. “But your robes mark you as Priests of the Order. I assume you have some more credible evidence to support your claim of identity?” The last was ended in an upper tone, marking the guard’s hope that such was the case. A Knight of Miriat never fought for or with pleasure.

The priest who had spoken a moment ago nodded. “Of course.” He motioned to his companion, who moved back a few short steps at his partner’s queue as so not to threaten the guard and withdrew a sword from the scabbard hidden beneath his robes. “I assume this will suffice?”

Despite his extensive training in self-discipline, the guard could not prevent himself from inhaling sharply at the sight of the engraved blade. He quickly crossed his arms across his chest, fists clenched over his shoulders, in a formal gesture of respect. “My humblest apologies; I did not recognize you. I will pass word through the palace guard that you are not to be challenged.” He inclined his head submissively. “We are honored by your presence, Keepers of the Blade.” With that, he turned to the doors and pulled their heavy weight outwards. The priests stepped forward to pass.

“If I might venture a few more words, Masters?”

One turned briefly back as he replaced the sword in its hidden sheath while his companion merely paused in his walking. Understanding this was all the encouragement he would get, the guard continued without verbal acknowledgement. “If I might be so bold, I should say that were I in your position I would deign to make my visit short. There have been many a strange visitor in the past moon, and not all of them have left we of the guard feeling completely at ease.”

The two priests exchanged a knowing look. “We thank you for your concern,” the sword-bearer said, turning his eyes back on the helpful guard. “Our visit was never intended to be lengthy, but your warning means we have even less time than was anticipated. We shall do everything we can to make our stay as short as possible.”

The guard beamed. “You honor me, Masters.” He would have said more, but found he was already speaking to the visitors’ backs. He bowed his head once more, and after a moment shut the doors.

Now that they were alone in Miriatom Castle’s expansive courtyard, the sword-bearer paused again to scan their surroundings a little more closely than first allowed. He found the courtyard was a rectangle, about 70 paces deep and half that many wide. The flowers and trees that were grown here hinted at what beauty could be found in the actual gardens of the palace.

What he also noticed were the artfully hidden archer’s platforms and a groundwork design that would confuse even the most organized army. This place was built to withstand a great attack if need be. A few years ago, he wouldn’t even have thought to look for such a trait in this beautiful place. And even if I had noticed, I would have wondered why. Noticing his companion had not waited for him, he quickened his strides to catch up, and then settled in to the other man’s pace.

“I do not think that was wise, Master.”

The older man did not bother looking at his apprentice to reply as he continued walking. “Nor do I, but could you think of another way without risking further detection?”

His apprentice sighed, and shook his head. “No. But I still do not think showing him the Blade was the smartest thing to do.”

No reply this time.

From past experience, the apprentice took his master’s silence as an allowance to continue. His voice was full of disgust and just a bit of anxiety. “All of the maids and guardsmen of his bragging clique will know of our presence within two hours of the end of his watch. No one can ever resist telling their friends that they spoke with the guardians of the Blade of Power. And then who knows what ears will find their way to this tale? In no longer than four hours, our time of comfort is up.”

“As so those few hours we have gained,” the master said patiently, betraying none of his amusement at his apprentice’s predictability in his tone. “By resorting to other methods our presence would already be marked and our enemies en route to our location as we speak. Instead they are as oblivious to our whereabouts as they were five minutes ago, and they will stay that way unless by some act of the Gods there are spies unchained in the town of Miria.”Frowning, the apprentice replied, pointedly, “And if that happens, we will be utterly clueless as to when our enemies move against us.”

His master considered a moment. “Then let us truly take the guard’s advice and be as brief as we can, young Hirako Mynato. You need only pray your worries amount to nothing.”

Bowing his head in submission, Hirako replied, “As you will, Master.”

They did not speak again even when they reached the audience chamber of the High-Priestess. Without waiting to be announced by the startled door watcher, the two men of the Order of Miriat pushed open the doors and stepped unhesitatingly inside.

Hirako had known what to expect, but this did not prevent him from allowing his eyes to wander around the room in appreciation. As wide as it was tall, with crystal panels that colored the shafts of light entering from the roof the same pale, crystal blue as the tiles covering the floor, the Grand Chamber of High-Priestess Anoriana was quite a sight to behold. Even Hirako, who considered himself a well traveled man for his young age was genuinely impressed.

It was the center of the room held the greatest eye-holder of all. The High-Priestess herself, who was strikingly beautiful even despite her age. A mane of red hair cascaded around her shoulders and moved like liquid with her graceful movements. Hirako absently wondered who the father of her child might be, as the Priestess was not a married woman. She was speaking to her High Ministers as he and his master entered, and though she acknowledged them with only a glance, both knew she was fully aware of their presence even before they had entered the room.

They removed their hoods as a young priest came forward to greet them. “The Lady welcomes you and requests your presence at her dais,” he said simply and without preamble.

“Then let us not keep Her Grace waiting,” stated Hirako as he boldly moved towards the Priestess. His master fell into step along side him as the Ministers were dismissed and Anoriana turned her full gaze on them for the first time. Hirako noted she had piercing blue eyes. Once close enough that they could have leapt forward and touched her, the pair kneeled on the ground in a respectful greeting and waited to be spoken to.

A moment later her clear, strong voice echoed through the chamber and through their minds. “Welcome, Knights of Miriat, and Keepers of the Blade of Power,” she smiled down at them, not having been remotely fooled by their priestly robes but immediately recognizing them for who they were. “I presume that you have been sent on some grave mission, Tonakli, for you to return here in these desperate times when your talents are surely needed elsewhere. Please, rise and feel welcomed, both of you.”

Masking his surprise at the High-Priestess’s informal reference to his master, Hirako stood at her request and remained silent. “It is most grave indeed, Mistress,” Tonakli volunteered, “and though our mission is important and needs the utmost speed in its completion, I would not wish to speak of it until we were more rested and in clear mind. Our journey has been long, and not all pleasant.” Hirako remembered the nights spent in the cold mud, hiding from enemies who pursued them tirelessly, and the bitter close calls when they could not remain hidden. Many men had died on that journey.

The High-Priestess smiled again, though Hirako thought he saw a flicker of worry cross her features and he wondered if she had somehow picked up on his thoughts. “Certainly, my humble Knights. I will have servants make rooms for you, so that you may wash and rest. Make yourselves at home. If you would join me for the evening meal, I would be honored and pleased at the chance of receiving some real news from the outside. Too often our peaceful realm finds itself secluded from the rest of the world.”

Tonakli and Hirako bowed respectfully as she stepped down from the dais. “I am done with matters of state for the day,” she announced to her aids. “See that all that has been said is done, in the name of the Goddess and her High-Priestess.” She turned to the master and apprentice one more time. “Until later, gentlemen.” Then she moved away from them, and exited the room through a nearby door that led deeper into the troubled beauty of Miriatom Castle.

Chapter 2