songs to their god. One by one they fell, until the undead crushed them beneath their feet. Jerico cried out in despair, but he could do nothing, only watch.
He felt an emotion wash over him, and it was not his own. It was a terrible ache, so deep, so overwhelming, that it took him a moment to realize he felt Ashhur’s sorrow.
And then he awoke. He lay in his simple bed in his guest room. Sweat covered him. He felt tears in his eyes.
Do not fear the road you must travel, a voice whispered to him. Only know that you do not travel it alone.
Alone. The word hit him like a sledge. The vast bulk of his order had died. How many might remain? He thought of the dead he’d seen, and he wondered who commanded them. What nightmare was this? The Citadel, fallen? It’d been prophesied to never fall, for if it did, so would end the order of paladins. And it couldn’t end, it couldn’t, couldn’t…
He felt Ashhur’s presence with him, and indeed, believed it was his voice that whispered softly. Deep in his heart, he knew he should feel at peace with such a presence, but he felt only fear and sorrow. His friends. His brothers. His teachers. Dead. So many dead.
Despite all this, he felt a keen sense of exhaustion. He fell back atop his bed, and by the time his head hit the pillow, he was already asleep.
W hen Jerico awoke, he remembered the dream, and the passage of time did little to help. As the morning light bathed him, he wished for the images to leave his mind. He’d hoped it would reveal itself a dream, or a possible future to avoid. But all he remembered was a sense of immediacy that denied that hope. He’d felt Ashhur’s sorrow. His home was destroyed. The Citadel had fallen.
He heard a knock at the door, then Jessie call out to him.
“Breakfast, if you’re ready, sir,” she said.
“Thank you,” he said, still feeling lost in a dream. He had to get back. He had to see the wreckage for himself, or he might never believe. Besides, who else might be in danger? What of the younger students, had they died in its collapse? And who had led this army? So much he didn’t know, didn’t understand.
He dressed in his platemail, and he packed his things. Preaching in the village could wait. There were more important things to do.
“Are you leaving us?” Jeremy Hangfield asked as he sat with him at their table.
“I’m afraid I must,” he said. Jeremy stared him over, and he felt uncomfortable as he ate.
“You look ill. Is something the matter? A flu, perhaps?”
“Ill,” Jerico said, and he shook his head as if his mind couldn’t fathom basic conversation. “Ill news from home, perhaps. Thank you, Jeremy. You have been a good host.”
“A shame,” said Jeremy. “Before you go, Darius wished to speak with you. He said it was urgent, but wouldn’t tell me what about.”
A strange guilty feeling came over him. Had Darius received a similar dream? How much exaltation would have been in his? Could any paladin of Karak weep for their fall?
“Perhaps I will see him before I go,” he said, with no intention of looking.
After excusing himself, he gathered up the rest of his things and hoisted his pack onto his back, over his shield. Jessie was waiting for him at the door.
“Will the Citadel send someone to replace you?” she asked. The question stabbed straight to his heart.
“I fear not,” he said.
“I’ll miss you. Are you sure you must go? How else will I talk to Ashhur?”
Jerico sighed. She was staring at him from the corner of her eye, as if afraid to meet his gaze. With how haggard and drained he felt, he couldn’t blame her. He put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her forehead.
“Even if I go, Ashhur will always remain. Take care, Jessie.”
He left their home and trudged south. He’d need supplies later, but he had enough to live on for now. The Citadel had given him plenty of coin, and he’d spent little of it. There would be many villages along the river, and he’d buy what he needed from them. He didn’t want to remain in Durham anymore. He felt guilty for abandoning his post, but how could he ignore such a portent sent in his dreams?
Darius spotted him passing through the town square, and inwardly he cursed himself for not going around.
“Jerico!” he said, hurrying over. He wore his armor, and it shone in the light.
“I’m leaving,” Jerico said, trying to keep the conversation quick and simple.
Darius looked as if he’d been slapped.
“Leaving?”
Jerico nodded and continued walking. Darius recovered, and he jogged to his side.
“You can’t leave,” he said. “How could you? The people here need you.”
“The wolf-men are dead, and I’ve done what I can to spread Ashhur’s word. Besides, what could you care about that?”
Darius pushed himself into Jerico’s way, forcing him to stop.
“Soldiers from Blood Tower arrived several hours before dawn,” he said. “They’ve taken up lodging in several houses, and I’ve told them not to say anything about what happened.”
“What happened? Start making sense, Darius.”
“Wolf-men assaulted them upon the river. They lost nine men and had to beach a couple miles outside the village. Right now they’re pretending it didn’t happen, and they are the full contingent Sir Godley originally sent.”
Jerico started to think over the matter, then shook his head and pressed on, his shoulder bumping into Darius’s.
“The village is safe enough,” he said. “You’re here, as are the soldiers now.”
“What?” Darius grabbed his arm and pulled him back, forcing him to face him. “I don’t know what’s going on, but whatever it is, you need to snap out of it. At least twenty wolf-men attacked their boat. They’re watching the river, preventing reinforcements. That’s not normal, Jerico, and you know it. They’re planning an assault. Every single person here is at risk, and I expect a paladin of Ashhur to be brave enough to stand and fight them.”
Jerico yanked his arm free and glared.
“You would call me a coward?” he asked.
“I call you nothing. I just wonder what it is that could make you abandon the people who need you most. You said I was wrong to avoid Bobby’s funeral, and you were right. Yet now there will be a hundred funerals, assuming any live to bury their dead. Would you be absent from them all? And for what? Tell me what is so damn important!”
Jerico thought of the Citadel’s fall, thought of the undead swarming over his brethren. And then he thought of Jessie, sad little Jessie, being shredded by a pack of wolf-men. His clenched fists shook, and he tried to know what was right. In the end, he closed his eyes and asked Ashhur. He received no answer, but in the momentary calm, he felt his guilt overcome him. These people needed him. If Darius was right, and so many were massing along the river…
“I’ll stay until the village is safe,” he said.
“Good,” Darius said, smiling. “Now care to tell me what’s the matter?”
Jerico didn’t want to imagine the dark paladin’s reaction, whether it would be sadness, rejoicing, or indifference.
“Some other time,” he said as together they walked back to Durham.
6
Daniel ate his breakfast in silence, speaking only to compliment the young woman who had prepared the meal. Amusingly enough, her husband beamed with pride at every word he spoke.
“She’s a real cook, ain’t she?” said Henry, the husband. His wife, a portly lady with auburn hair, flushed and
