they tried sailing south past Durham. We rode the river all night and day to reach you, and by the looks of it, we weren’t that terribly needed. Goddamn, Daniel, I swear we walked through the town on the bodies of wolves!”
“The King sent us men?” Daniel asked when the story was told. “Truly?”
Sir Robert laughed, and he winked at Jerico.
“Aye, he did. So maybe there is a miracle in all this, eh, paladin?”
“Come,” Darius said, hefting his sword onto his shoulder. “Let’s take final count of all this mess.”
He exited, and Jerico followed.
“Good to see you survived,” Jerico said.
“I’m glad I did, too. Had to crash in through a window. Thank Karak the wolves softened it up for me first.”
Jerico laughed and elbowed the dark paladin. Darius grinned.
“Fine. Glad to see you lived as well. You got that monster, I take it?”
“He fled,” said Jerico, a bit of his smile fading. “And he made it inside the tavern. So many…”
They stopped in the center of the town, which appeared to be the spot of a great slaughter given how many corpses lay strewn about, all of them wolf-men. Someone called out Darius’s name, and they both turned to see Pheus approaching. Jerico felt his stomach tighten, but he did his best to ignore it. They’d survived against terrible odds, and while many had died, many had also lived. He would bear no ill will against the troubling priest, given how much he had aided their struggle.
“Darius,” said the priest. “The battle is done, and the wolf-men beaten.”
“You state the obvious,” Darius said, but his mood soured. Jerico frowned, wondering what bothered his friend so.
“With the threat over, your last excuse is gone. Will you do what must be done?”
Darius approached the priest, and he leaned close as if to whisper an answer, but Pheus pushed him back.
“No secrets,” he said. “No whispers, no silence. Do you have the courage, or do you not?”
“Darius?” Jerico asked, wondering what was going on, and not liking the cold feeling traveling up his neck.
“This is not what Karak wants,” Darius insisted.
“You are to tell me what Karak wants?” the priest asked. He looked flabbergasted. “You, a child in armor, a weakling in our god’s eyes, would tell me his will? Step aside, paladin. You shame your name, and all your brethren, with such cowardice.”
Eyes downcast, Darius stepped back. Pheus glared at Jerico, and shadows danced around his fingers, swelling with power. Reluctantly Jerico lifted his shield, his fingers wrapping about the mace clipped to his belt.
“What nonsense is this?” he asked, wishing for any other explanation.
“Your friends are dead, paladin of Ashhur. Your kind will soon be a fading memory from this world. Go to the Abyss with my blessing.”
Darius’s sword slashed out, resting against the pale flesh of Pheus’s throat.
“No,” said the dark paladin.
The priest’s whole body trembled with rage.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
Darius shook his head. He still looked troubled, but a change had come over him. He stood tall, and his words were firm, proud.
“You are not the will of our god. Because of Jerico, these people survived. I refuse to believe Karak would honor such bravery with death and betrayal. The wolf-men represent the chaos of this world, not him. Speak another word of that spell, and I will silence you forever.”
“You would threaten a priest of Karak? You would betray your own order?”
“I betray no one, Pheus. Go on your way.”
Pheus’s eyes flickered between them. Decision made, he relaxed his arms, and the shadows faded away from his hands.
“The Stronghold will hear of this,” he said.
“I know.”
“They will not look kindly upon you.”
Darius sighed.
“I know.”
The priest shook the dust from his sandals, turned, and walked west. Darius watched him go as Jerico stood there, confused beyond all measure on how to feel. His friend saw this and sighed, finally tearing his gaze away from the retreating priest.
“We must talk,” he said.
“After them,” Jerico said, pointing to where the many families were exiting Hangfield’s, seeking friends and loved ones from the other two places they’d defended. “There’s a lot of grief, a lot of death. Let us perform our role.”
Darius stabbed his sword into the dirt.
“So be it.”
W hen the prayers were done, and every possible word of consolation had passed from Jerico’s lips, he retreated beyond the center of town and built a fire. He knew its light would guide Darius there, and sure enough, the paladin arrived not long after.
“Two thirds dead,” Darius said, shaking his head as he sat. “Some victory.”
“They’ll rebuild,” Jerico said. “Remarry. Have children, make friends. Those that survived have a whole life ahead of them.”
“Don’t tell them that. Right now they dwell in the loss. Some may dwell forever.”
Jerico nodded, knowing how right he was. An uncomfortable silence stretched over them. The dark paladin sat on the other side of the fire, and the two stared into the flickering flames.
“With the Citadel’s fall, my brethren and the priests have declared war on the paladins of Ashhur,” he said at last.
“For what reason?” Jerico asked.
“Is one needed? You know we oppose one another. Centuries ago, Karak and Ashhur warred. It appears it has begun anew.”
Jerico felt a pang in his heart as he thought of his friends, and of that terrible image of the Citadel crumbling before an army of the dead. Were they Karak’s army? Was that the truth of it?
“Pheus wanted you to kill me,” Jerico said.
“I figured that was obvious.”
“But you didn’t.”
“Also obvious.”
Jerico smiled despite his exhaustion.
“I owe you my life, Darius. But I guess that, too, is obvious?”
Darius muttered something, then tossed a twig onto the fire.
“What now?” Jerico asked.
“You have to leave. Pheus will return, and he won’t come back alone. He’s been spreading word all along the river of our newly begun war, and what news he has is not good. Jerico…you may very well be the last of your kind.”
“No,” Jerico said, shaking his head. He couldn’t believe it. It just wasn’t possible.
“If not now, then soon. How many of your brethren were at the Citadel when it fell? The few scattered about are young, inexperienced. They’ll be hunted down with the full might of Karak. Who can survive that? Our presence is in every nation, felt in every kingdom hall. There is nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.”
Jerico felt panic racing through his veins, and he tried to stop it. It couldn’t be right. He couldn’t be the last. Others would survive, others would fight back…
“Where should I go?” he asked.
“I’d say find safety with your priests, probably the Sanctuary, but that is a long journey south. I don’t know if
